


in these pathless woods

by sinequanon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Magical Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 21:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8550724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinequanon/pseuds/sinequanon
Summary: When Stiles makes the sacrifice for his dad, he meets a vampire on the other side. That meeting will change his life forever.(Canon Divergent after 3A of TW, AU for The Originals)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this almost two years ago, when I finished devouring regular TW fanfiction and moved on to crossovers. Unfortunately, most of the ones I liked were abandoned, so I decided to write my own.
> 
> This fic took less than a year to write, but what started as one fic turned into many, all of which will be posted over the next year. 
> 
> Please enjoy.
> 
> (Note: This chapter contains actual dialogue from TW.)

Niklaus Mikaelson was a man with a lethal reputation. He was widely known for his foul temper and absolute willingness to destroy anyone who angered him, and he reveled in that role. After all, he'd had a thousand years of practice. His siblings were equally fearsome in other ways—Finn was bitingly intelligent; Elijah, forcibly polite; Rebekah, deceptively dangerous; and Kol was almost manically ferocious—but Klaus was by far the most dreaded of the Mikaelson family.

Elijah often thought that people who believed Klaus was the most dangerous creature in their family must have never met their mother, who had managed to trap her children and was currently spouting her latest diatribe about saving them from themselves. Her present plan involved cursing her children and metaphysically “burning” the vampirism out of them.

It would undoubtedly be an unpleasant experience.

Elijah gritted his teeth as his mother carved into his chest, the sting of the blade followed by a flare of heat. “I do this out of love,” she said, cupping her son’s cheek. “It’s because of my love for you that this spell is possible.”

“You might want to rethink your definition of love, Mother.” Niklaus said from beside his brother, grunting as Esther moved toward him with a particularly forceful stab near his heart.

“It’s my fault that you were turned into monsters, and it’s my responsibility to correct my mistake.” Their mother set aside the bowl containing Klaus’s blood and moved to Rebekah, who was hanging next to her brothers. “It's such a shame that Finn couldn’t be here as well; he always was the most sensitive child.”

“What have you done to him?”

“That’s no way to talk to your mother,” Esther snarled, slapping her daughter before picking up the knife once more. “He’s safe for the moment. He’ll be grateful when I make all of you better. You all will.” Rebekah’s breath hitched at the heat that flared through her body as her mother moved the knife against her skin.

After she had finished bloodying her children, Esther sighed. “It’s a good thing your brother Kol is already dead – he would have been so tiresome to catch.”

The siblings watched as their mother carefully combined the blood with some other unknown mixture before reciting an incantation that filled the room with smoke. Elijah could feel heat pulse through his body again, followed by a heaviness in his chest that wrapped around his heart like a vice; the others could feel it as well, judging by the grimaces on their faces.

“Now,” she said, pouring the mixture into glasses, "I'm sure this won't taste pleasant, but it will connect all my lovely children together long enough for me to make everything better."

"If you think you can make any of us drink that, you are sadly mistaken," Klaus snarled.

"I won't have to make you drink, Niklaus. All of you will be quite willing to drink for me very soon," she said with a smile. The tight sensation the siblings were feeling in their chests expanded down their limbs and spread through their veins. "Rebekah will likely burn first, because she's the most delicate," Esther said conversationally, as the girl suddenly struggled to breathe, "but think of this as accelerated starvation. It's ironic that the thing you crave will be the same thing that actually destroys your monstrous natures."

It only took a few minutes of burning from the inside out for the siblings to be reduced to nearly feral creatures desperate for survival. Esther was almost impressed about how long her children fought the spell, but in the end they were reduced to panting, growling creatures that were willing to take any meal given to them.

The moment her children were ready--she didn't want them to suffer needlessly--she carefully subdued Elijah, Niklaus, and Rebekah and helped them drink the potion. After watching them carefully for a few minutes, she went to her eldest son and fed him the potion as well. In a few hours, all of her beloved children would be completely human, no longer able to wreak havoc in the world.

"I'm doing this for all of you," she said, watching them twitch and writhe, gently brushing the hair from her daughter's face. "I know how you've struggled and now I'm going to give you peace."

Rebekah was dimly aware of her mother's voice as the effects of the spell rushed through her veins. She noticed when Mother brought Finn into the room, but Rebekah was in too much pain to take in the state of her brother. It seemed like hours before the burning finally stopped. She could hear her brothers breathing heavily around her, and she forced herself to open her eyes and look around.

Esther stood in the center of the room, watching her children with a wide smile. "My beautiful, beautiful children," she said, touching Finn, then Elijah, then Rebekah softly. They stiffened, but did nothing. "We can finally be a family again," She reached for Niklaus, only for him to yank his chains and and growl at her, fangs bared.

The fangs disappeared almost immediately, but their mother reared back in surprise, grabbing the knife she had used to bleed her children. "No, NO! You're all here, Kol is dead! It should have worked!" Esther paused, frowning. "It can't be. The only other child..."

Still weak from the spell, the siblings could do nothing but watch as their mother fumed. She paced the room, muttering under her breath, and the look of impotent rage on her face might have been comical had she not been trying to kill them. Suddenly, she stilled, and Rebekah flinched at the glint in her mother's eyes. "Clever witch, to think she could hide him from me. No matter, I'll find him eventually."

The Mikaelson siblings stared in exhausted surprise as Esther stormed out without another glance in their direction.

<> <>

Stiles Stilinski had lived his entire sixteen-year existence in Beacon Hills, and he liked it. Sure, growing up with a cop for a father could be difficult, but it also had its perks. He knew most everyone in town, and thanks to his detective skills (thanks, Dad), he knew more about the town and its residents than people twice his age.

His mother had loved the town, too. She told Stiles about how the forest surrounding the town was magic, and how the town itself was a little bit magic, too. Stiles and his mother would go on picnics and search for pixies in the Preserve, spend hours "hunting" for information in the library (and reading histories and mysteries and adventures and fantasies), and plot out the "totally epic senior summer road trip" that the family was going to take the summer before Stiles graduated from high school. Every Sunday night at dinner, the Stilinskis would pull out their collection of road maps and debate the best route to take from California to Maine; after all, seventeen was a few years away, but everyone agreed that it was never too early to plan a vacation.

Two months into the start of kindergarten, Stiles met Scott McCall on the monkey bars, and a lifelong friendship was born. Stiles had an awesome family and a great friend. Life couldn't be better.

Stiles was in second grade when his mother got sick. At first, the symptoms were hardly noticeable--misplaced keys, grilled cheese left on the skillet too long--but less than a year later Claudia Stilinski was living out her last days in the hospital, a pale imitation of the woman she had been before the dementia.

By the time she died, Claudia hardly recognized her only child, and eight-year old Stiles had convinced himself that his mother's illness was all his fault. This wasn't a problem that he could solve with his wits or his magic, but he faithfully visited the hospital even as his world was falling apart. All of the happy memories he had made with his mom were wiped away by disease, and his father, the Sheriff, drowned himself in work and drink to cope, leaving Stiles alone to deal with his own grief.

Stiles, determined to protect his mom's memory and keep his dad safe, taught himself to cook and clean so that his dad wouldn't worry about it. What was laundry, when his dad was out saving people's lives? And, if Stiles cooked, he could help keep his dad healthy, so that he wouldn't end up in the hospital like his mom. Anything that Stiles could do to help his dad, he would do without question. After all, taking care of his dad was one of the last things his mother had ever asked him to do (when she still knew who he was), so he would definitely try his hardest to make her proud of him.

That was why, when Ms. Blake had captured Mr. Argent in preparation for the final sacrifice, Stiles experienced his first panic attack in years. Just the thought of losing his dad, who he had worked so hard to protect for the last eight years, was enough to make his heart pound and his throat constrict with worry.

It was so unfair! He had done everything he could to protect the only parent he had left, and his psychotic former English teacher had kidnapped his dad, and Scott's mom, and now Allison's dad so she could get some magical power-up out of the deal.

The knowledge that he could have stopped Ms. Blake himself if he wouldn't have given up magic after his mother died only made him sick to his stomach. He had even turned down the chance to study under Scott's boss; when Dr. Deaton had offered to help him after the mountain ash incident, he had played dumb, never quite answering the other man's queries.

His only hope now was that Deaton could come up with a plan to save their parents.

Scott turning into a werewolf a few months ago was only the beginning of the drama that was now Stiles's life: his friend Derek's sister was dying, his father had been kidnapped by his evil druid English teacher, and his brother had briefly decided to align himself with a self-proclaimed “Demon Wolf” to kill said evil druid English teacher.

Scott had given up his ill-advised partnership with the Wolf fairly quickly, but Stiles's faith in his best friend had taken a hit. Right now, Stiles trusted Scott only a little more than he trusted Deaton, and Deaton was one of the most cryptically unreliable people he had ever met.

Even if the man’s plan was risky, though, doing something crazy to help his dad was better than doing nothing, or waiting for someone else to take charge of the situation. Sure, a magical veterinarian was probably not on most people's go-to list for dealing with kidnappings, but druids weren’t all that common, either.

“What’s the plan?” Scott asked.

“Essentially, you, Stiles and Allison are going to be surrogate sacrifices for your parents," Deaton said.

“We die for them?”

“If it goes right, the three of you will be dead for a few seconds. But there’s something else you need to think about; this is a dangerous thing for more reasons than one. You’ll be giving power back to the nemeton, a place that hasn’t had power for a long time. This kind of power is like a magnet. It attracts the supernatural. The kind of things that a family like the Argents can fill the pages of a bestiary with. It will draw them here. Like a beacon.”

“It doesn’t sound any worse than anything we’ve already seen.” Stiles said, berating himself silently for tempting fate.

“You’d be surprised with what you have yet to see.” Deaton replied simply, and Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Stiles, Scott, and Allison agreed without hesitation to do the ritual to save their parents; after all, each of them was down to one parent as it was. They would be held down in tubs of freezing cold water until they died, but would hopefully be brought back with knowledge of how to find the nemeton, where their parents were being held. Deaton would do most of the preparations, but each of the teenagers had to find a talisman--something that tied them to their parent--to act as a focus for the ritual.

Later that day, Stiles would clutch his father’s badge and think of family while he drowned.


	2. Chapter 2

Niklaus came awake slowly. His body ached and his head pounded. Everything was blurry, and his senses were dulled. He and the others had wanted to escape as soon as their mother had left, but exhaustion had quickly taken over and they had slept instead. Now, he wondered absently how long it would take for his mother's spell to make them fully human, and worried that it would hinder their escape. Rebekah and Elijah were coming around as well, and Klaus wanted to leave before she returned, even if they had to do it as humans. Finn was still unconscious, and Niklaus panicked when he realized that he couldn't hear his brother's heartbeat, before realizing with a start that he could no longer hear any of his siblings' heartbeats. Despite the fact that he could see Elijah and Rebekah moving, he was on edge for the near hour it took for everyone to fully wake.

As soon as Finn showed signs of waking, Niklaus turned to Elijah with a scowl. "We need to get out of here, and then we need to find a witch to undo this damned curse."

"What we really need is to get out of these chains," Rebekah said, pulling with her now-human strength.

"We just need to be patient," Finn said softly. He still looked a bit disoriented, the other three noted, but at least he was finally talking. "We are supposed to be completely human, but I keep getting short bursts of strength, and Nik flashed his fangs at Mother earlier. We just have to wait long enough until one of us can break out."

"And hope that Mother doesn't return in the interim," Elijah added dryly.

In the end, it took nearly two hours for everyone to break free--Klaus's initial burst of strength only lasted long enough to free himself--but as soon as Finn broke Rebekah's chains, the group began to destroy what little belongings their Mother had left behind and began the hunt for a witch to remove the curse.

“What just happened? One moment Mother was going to kill us, and the next she runs into the night like some clichéd villain,” Rebekah asked the room at large.

Klaus scowled. “I don’t know. But I vaguely remember her saying something about a witch. We should find and dispose of this witch before Mother can get her claws in them."

“Don’t be hasty, Niklaus.” Elijah said with a smirk as he smashed a pot his mother had left behind. “If the witch is powerful enough to hide from our mother, this is power we should take advantage of.”

<> <>

Calling it a white room was a misnomer; the place where Stiles and the others "woke up" after the sacrifice would be better described as an endless brightness: no sights, no sounds. Stiles was impressed by the sheer vastness of it, and surprisingly not worried, despite the fact that though a single tree should have been easy to spot amidst all of the white, there was nothing as far as the eye could see.

Stiles had no idea how long they walked before they found the nemeton, but he could feel the pull of its power long before the tree itself came into view. He glanced at Scott, but the werewolf seemed not to notice the static that hung heavy in the air; Allison gave Stiles a hesitant smile when he looked in her direction, but otherwise seemed focused on the task at hand.

The nemeton.

The tree itself had been cut down long ago, but the stump was by no means dead. Dormant maybe, but that didn't make it any less dangerous. Stiles's palms itched with the need to put his hands on it. To his left, he could see Scott hesitantly take a step forward, arm outstretched. Stiles squashed the urge to push Scott away from the remnants of the tree and leaned forward instead. Normally, Stiles would hesitate to touch something that was as powerful as the nemeton, even in its weakened state, but his dad's life was at stake, and he would do anything to save him.

A brief touch, and Stiles and the others were seeing the night that started everything, when Scott and Stiles found Laura Hale’s body. Stiles watched the two of them wander through the Preserve and make the discovery. He watched them run from the approaching officers, saw his dad catch him and walk him to the car. He saw the nemeton, too, and just as he reached out to touch it to go back again he glanced up—

And noticed someone who was definitely _not_ part of his original memory standing in the tree line.

<> <>

The afterlife was pretty boring. He had been dead for months, and he had yet to see another soul in this empty version of the town where he died. Sure, Kol could watch his family make one disastrous decision after another in the search for power, or watch the ordinary residents of Mystic Falls go about their boring, tedious lives, but none of it seemed to matter, so why bother? He couldn't even rattle anyone's kitchen cupboards.

It’s not that he expected to see pearly gates or anything, but this was ridiculous. Was he supposed to contemplate the mistakes he had made in life? That would take a while, and be completely pointless. Even as a human he’d been so much more active--all of this waiting around was tedious. He wanted something, anything, to happen.

He probably should have kept his mouth shut.

A few nights later, Kol was taking his nightly stroll through the Mystic Falls Cemetery—  
And then he wasn’t.

Instead, he was standing at the edge of what looked to be a forest. The night was clear, the moon was shining, and everything was still. It didn't look much different from the forest surrounding the Mystic Falls Cemetery, but even dead, Kol could tell that this forest was different from the one he left behind. It was too quiet, and everything was just a little out of focus, blurry around the edges. Stepping into the trees, he walked aimlessly, searching for what might have called him to this place. A witch? A werewolf? He'd fight nearly anything at this point just to cure the ennui.

Maybe...maybe Nik, or one of his other siblings was trying to call him home?

Kol moved deeper into the silent forest until something caught the edge of his senses, a deep thrum of power that echoed through his bones and carried his feet forward. He found himself in front of a large tree stump that was surprisingly well-hidden among much smaller trees. He was tempted to step forward and touch it, to see if he could harness the tree's power and send himself home, but even he knew better than to play with unfamiliar magic. He might be reckless, but he was never stupid, and as boring as his current death was, Kol had a feeling that it was infinitely better than being blinked out of existence by a magical tree.

The sudden sound of dogs and the flash of lights was jarring in the stillness, and Kol took the opportunity to shake off the allure of the tree and follow the action. He returned to the edge of the forest in time to see an officer escort a flailing teenager to his car. Kol unexpectedly laughed at the scene, and the boy’s head snapped up despite the distance between them. The moment their eyes locked, Kol felt something shift and settle in him. Shocked at the sudden connection, he shut his eyes for a moment to get his bearings, but when he opened them again, he was back in the cemetery.

The boy was nowhere to be found.

<> <>

Stiles thought about the stranger he had seen over the next few days. At first, he told himself that the man didn’t matter; after all, Stiles had only seen him for a few seconds before he woke up in the clinic. He was probably just some weird dream-world guardian with some purpose that Stiles didn’t need to know about. Right? He was probably there to make sure that Stiles went home and didn’t further harm the nemeton. Deaton hadn’t seemed worried when Stiles mentioned it to him. Still, as Stiles’s mind wandered during class, he couldn’t help but wonder why, in a world with seemingly nothing but a magical memory tree, the man had been there at all.

A week after the sacrifice, Deucalion and the darach had vanished, Derek and Cora had decided to leave town for a while, Peter had disappeared again, and the twins had left town without a word.

At least school was a distraction: something that he, Scott, and Allison all desperately needed. Nothing outwardly threatening or dangerous had happened since they had saved their parents, but unease had settled in their bones and deep-seated fears had begun to play out in their dreams.

That first week, the dreams were almost normal--glitches were easily ignored. Missing keys and darkened school hallways were nothing to get upset over. Whispers? Lydia heard them all the time; Stiles had no room to complain. Things were fine. Other than weird dreams, things were as they should be--school, friends, home--all was well.

Only two weeks later, however, Lydia was teasing them for being the crazy ones, and school was the only thing that seemed semi-normal. Focusing on chemistry or algebra let them forget the other stuff for a while. Mostly ordinary dreams had turned into nightmares, which had turned into sleepless nights, which were turning into headaches and hallucinations. Allison had “seen” her dead aunt and had almost killed Lydia, and Scott kept thinking that he was losing control of his shift and turning into a werewolf in public, which was bad for obvious reasons.

Stiles was lucky. His hallucinations consisted of classrooms of silent students making hand signs and gestures that he couldn’t understand. His dreams were filled with endless walking and unfamiliar houses and moving shadows. Occasionally, the dreams were of his friends--mostly Scott and Lydia, but sometimes Allison or Isaac or Derek--dying in horrible ways that he couldn't quite recall when he was awake. They were unsettling, of course, but easier to ignore than Scott and Allison’s potentially lethal actions.

Stiles did his best to distract everyone from the craziness. Scott and Allison were currently at an "off" moment in their relationship, so Scott started coming around again for pizza and video games, and Stiles let them pretend that things were the same as they were before they knew about werewolves. Stiles took Allison out for ice cream, and they talked about things that didn't have claws or fangs. Stiles even spent time with Lydia, doing homework together and working on the bestiary.

Of course, Stiles was far less effective at distracting himself; it was common knowledge that Stiles wasn’t the best at simply letting things go. Case in point: Stiles had almost managed to let himself forget about the man he had seen during the sacrifice; unfortunately, Stiles had seen him again the night before in his dreams.

Stiles had thought a lot about the man the first few days after the sacrifice, and he knew that the man had not been present the night Scott was bitten, because at the time, Stiles had been looking for Scott even as his Dad pulled him towards the car. He might have assumed that spotting the stranger was simply the lack of sleep getting to him, except that he wasn’t seeing the guy when he was awake; he only saw the man in his dreams. The man didn't try to come closer or interact in any way, simply stared at Stiles from a distance. It was unsettling, but there wasn't much Stiles could do about it other than try to wake himself up.

Normally, Stiles would have been picking apart the mystery of death-dream man, from the background scenery to the clothes the man was wearing; regretfully, right now, Stiles didn't have the focus to accomplish the task. Despite the lack of blood and guts, Stiles still woke up exhausted almost every morning, like he had actually spent his nights walking through the woods instead of resting. Unless he tried to come after Stiles with a hatchet, the other guy's possible motivations just weren't a priority right now.

Of course, the lack of quality sleep meant that Stiles was having waking nightmares, too, and it was making him paranoid. His teachers were fairly evenly divided between irritated and concerned by his increased jumpiness, and his dad had all but stopped complaining about his diet at the dinner table in favor of eyeing his son with concern. Stiles plastered a happy smile on his face, because he didn’t want to worry Scott or his dad in case it was nothing.

(He was pretty sure that this wasn’t nothing.)

Three weeks later, Stiles was sorely sleep-deprived and torn between frustration and panic. He had been lost in forests, locked in attics, and fallen down stairs. He ran through darkened classrooms, an abandoned sheriff's station, and the burned out Hale house, never seeing anything but shadows. His nightmares, while not necessarily scary, left him exhausted and were filled with such foreboding that it carried over into Stiles’s waking hours. Every day, Stiles felt like the invisible noose around his neck tightened a bit more, and he couldn’t breathe deeply enough to clear his head. Thankfully, Scott hadn’t noticed yet, too busy dealing with his own issues, but the Sheriff had been woken up more than once by Stiles’s screams. Stiles needed to find a solution, and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 3-4 and another short piece will be posted next week. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles knew he was dreaming.

He stood at the edge of an almost silent forest. There was a path, worn just enough to follow, and enough moonlight to see clearly. He let his feet follow it, taking in the shadowed details around him for what felt like hours, going deeper and deeper into the forest. It felt like a fairytale, and Stiles had the vague thought that he better not be stuck in some weird Hansel and Gretel land, being lured into the forest to be eaten, when he sees him.

Death-Dream Man, as Stiles was currently calling him in his head, was leaning nonchalantly against a tree a couple hundred yards away. He jolted in surprise at seeing Stiles outside of their usual meeting site, but soon settled back into nonchalance, and otherwise ignored Stiles's presence.

That would be a "no" for tonight's episode of crazy charades, then.

Sighing in frustration, Stiles keeps walking, trying to ignore the snow that was suddenly blanketing his surroundings. It fell gently, but quickly, and Stiles began to worry that he wouldn't make it out of the preserve before the forest was buried under it. The unfamiliar terrain was a bit slippery, and Stiles finds himself surprisingly embarrassed to be wrong-footed in front of the stranger.

Not focused on where he’s going, Stiles missteps and loses his footing. Suddenly, he’s sliding, finally coming to a hard stop against a large oak tree. For a moment, Stiles can't move, the breath punched out of him, and he panics; he's afraid that he’s somehow hurt himself, but he can't see anything—

And suddenly the man is crouching down in front of him, arm outstretched. Startled, Stiles stares into the man's face, trying to understand what's happening. He looks much younger up close, Stiles notes, as they watch each other. The wary look in the other boy's eyes says that he doesn't know what's going on, either.

Stiles wakes up screaming. He can hear a voice talking to him, but it sounds far away and he is having trouble focusing past the pounding in his head. His breathing is choppy, and he can feel his heart pumping madly. It feels like it takes forever, but he slowly (way too slowly) manages to slow his breathing enough to recognize the hand running soothingly down his back.

Finally, his dad's worried face swims into view. Stiles remembers that look from when his mom was sick, and it kills him to know that he's responsible for it now. “You can't keep going on this way,” his dad says, squeezing him tightly. “I’m worried about you.”

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, kid." He leaves Stiles long enough to grab a wet washcloth and a dry shirt. "It's my job to worry."

Stiles cleans up a bit, and they sit together for hours, even though both of them have to get up early in the morning. They talk about school, about Scott and Allison's not-relationship drama, whether their neighbor Mrs. Jensen's cat is possibly evil, or if they think Derek and Cora might come back. It was nice, talking about everyday things, even if it was 3:00 in the morning.

They don't talk about the supernatural, and Stiles is grateful.

<> <>

Unfortunately, the screaming practically becomes an everyday thing. Stiles feels awful because not only is he slowly going crazy, but the lack of proper sleep can’t be good for his dad's health, either. Stiles starts to stay awake for as long as he can, doing anything he can to keep the nightmares at bay. He should probably buy stock in energy drinks; he'll become rich if the town (or his brain) doesn't kill him first. He even goes to Dr. Deaton, who seems sympathetic, but provides very little practical help. When he sleeps, screaming and thrashing become Stiles’s normal nighttime routine, and he wakes up with more bruises than he got on the playground in elementary school. When he’s awake, his head feels floaty but his body weighed down, like there are boulders attached to his legs.

At least the others have people to support them: Scott has Isaac, Allison has Lydia, and he has…his dad, the one person he doesn’t want to have to worry about him. Scott and other others would say that they can support him, too, but he can’t appreciate them as much as he should right now, so he doesn’t want to burden them with his problems. After all, Allison hallucinating her crazy aunt and almost shooting someone with a crossbow is dangerous, Scott potentially losing control of his wolf is really dangerous, but Stiles having nightmares and slowly going crazy? Much farther down on the dangerousness scale.

<> <>

It was disconcerting and very irritating to suddenly be transported from one place to another, but it was an event that was happening to Kol with alarming regularity. It wasn’t that he carried any particular nostalgia for Mystic Falls, he thought, as he once again moved through the forest, but the fact that he was no longer in control of his own afterlife made him want to find whoever was responsible and gauge his or her eyes out. He regretted not being more specific when he asked for something to happen to alleviate his boredom.

The new reality wasn’t even that exciting; just the same lanky brunette that he had seen before, stumbling through the forest and tripping over everything. The boy's antics were amusing, though Kol sensed that they weren't intended to be. He couldn’t talk with the kid or interact with him in any way, and although he seemed to be a little closer every time Kol saw him, it made no difference if they couldn’t communicate. Kol, who had never been known for his patience, was ready for some running, or screaming, or some other kind of mayhem. Watching this kid fumble around the forest was practically torture after a while.

The only interesting part of watching him was that the kid sometimes seemed to see things that Kol himself couldn’t see—things that startled him. All the kid needed was a picnic basket and cloak and he could pass for a clumsy Red Riding Hood. He seemed hunted--a concept that Kol was intimately familiar with--and the vampire found himself sympathizing with the teenager who probably had little experience in dealing with the supernatural. Every so often, the kid would look extra pale and spooked, with only a flick of his eyes in Kol’s direction to suggest the kid had noticed him at all. As it was, Kol half-expected a wolf to jump out of the shadows and eat the kid.

Ironically, those were the days Kol found himself trying particularly hard to keep the boy’s attention. He would try to get a little closer or stand a little straighter. It wasn’t that he cared about the kid, exactly, but he didn’t want his only source of entertainment to leave, now did he? And speaking to the kid would be more interesting than just following him around. He might as well get something out of this baffling arrangement.

Kol recognized the tug of magic seconds before he was pulled from his nightly cemetery walk.

The boy appeared next to him between one moment and the next, looking more drawn and disheveled than usual. Before he realized what he was doing, Kol reached out, hesitating when the boy turned tired eyes toward the vampire. “Please,” a voice said, a little desperately, and Kol was shocked at the sudden realization that it had come from him. The boy's eyes widened in surprise, and he took one halting step forward before practically collapsing in Kol's arms.

The moment the two boys connected, Kol felt a shock like lightning shoot through his spine; he heard a gasp, and knew the other boy felt it too. They stared at each other with wide eyes, until the younger boy flushed and looked away. Irritation flashed through Kol at the other boy's embarrassment and, without thinking he dragged the boy through the cemetery to deposit him outside one of the nearby crypts.

"Well, this isn't morbid at all," the young man said drily, taking in his surroundings.

"Not that our shared dream dates haven’t been tons of fun, but what exactly is going on here?”

"My name is Stiles," the boy said abruptly, before falling quiet again. It didn't escape Kol's notice that Stiles hadn't actually answered the question, but he decided for once to not push the point, choosing instead to glare disapprovingly at the boy, who gave an amused snort. "So much glaring. You supernatural types must include it as part of your training regimen." He paused. "I mean, I'm assuming you're supernatural; you're not going to kill me just because I know your secret, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Kol gave the other boy a feral grin. "I don't need to have a reason to kill you."

Stiles's eyes widened like saucers before he huffed out a weak laugh. "At least if I'm dead, I'll finally get some sleep." He sprawled across the stone bench, staring up at Kol. "How do you want me?"

Kol, for the first time in hundreds of years, was struck speechless. They stared at each other for one beat, then another, before Kol shrugged. "Well, it's no fun if you're not going to fight back. Or at least run. Move over," he said, pushing the other boy's feet of the bench and taking a seat. "Tell me what is going on."

“The first time I saw you, I was looking for a tree called the nemeton. This evil druid lady had kidnapped my dad and was going to sacrifice him and my friends’ parents for the power to defeat this homicidal pack of werewolves, so we…temporarily sacrificed ourselves instead so that we could find and rescue them.”

“So you killed yourselves? For your parents?” Kol asked dubiously. “That seems rather idiotic.”

“It wasn’t permanent! But,” Stiles says, breathing deeply, “the other druid that helped us, he said that the sacrifice would leave a darkness on our hearts. For me, evidently that means I have nightmares every night and can’t focus all day.” He studied his shoes intently before meeting Kol’s gaze. “I don’t know who you are or what you are, and it should freak me out me that we met while I was dead. But I'm pretty sure that I can trust you. Will you help me, please?”

Kol stared at him. Nobody ever asked him for help, not even his own siblings. "Asking someone you don't know for help is a bit risky, don't you think?"

"Believe me, I know. I'm a cop's kid. I don't trust anyone. I feel like I know you, though. What's your name?

As much as he wanted to deny it, Kol understood what the kid meant. "Call me Kol."


	4. Chapter 4

_Whoever thought up the idea of exams should be shot. Repeatedly. And then kicked for good measure_.

Stiles had already had three exams this week, and it was only Tuesday. It would have been difficult even if Stiles had been getting the required sleep. Sleeping two or three hours a night was killing his concentration, and no amount of medication or friend drama could keep him going forever. He knew that he looked like an extra in a zombie movie ( _thanks, Isaac_ ); he just hoped he wouldn’t flunk out of high school in the meantime. Not to mention the cafeteria food made him nauseated, the bustle of the hallways made him dizzy, and doing his classroom reading made his head feel like it was going to explode. Expecting him to do well on tests right now was like asking him to be a lion tamer: sure, he could do the trick where he put his head in a lion’s mouth, but it wasn’t going to end well for him.

He saw Kol two or three times a week, and the rest of the week's dreams were spent running from monsters he couldn't remember in the morning. When they were together, Kol tried to keep them occupied, but they were at the mercy of whatever magic threw them together. With nothing much to do other than walk whichever forest they ended up in on a particular night, the two boys had a lot of time to chat, and Kol was surprisingly good company.

Regardless of his slowly improving "night life", Stiles hated his actual life right now, and it was getting harder explain away his ‘zombie chic’ appearance to his friends, though the fact that they had their own issues to deal with made them fairly easy to distract. Lydia, who was too perceptive anyway, kept asking Stiles if he'd slept well, and giving him snacks in their shared classes, saying he was too thin. He knew she was worried when she hadn't hit him when he compared her to a nagging grandmother. She hadn't said anything to the others, though, probably giving him the opportunity to do so himself. Stiles knew Lydia wouldn't let him put it off forever, but he was definitely not ready to talk to Scott yet.

Which was why, as he listened to Scott and Allison complain to Isaac about not being able to concentrate in class, Stiles kept his head down, chewing his burger viciously in an attempt to avoid conversation. Scott, despite the fact that he had been spending more time with Stiles recently, still found his focus mostly taken by Allison and Isaac. Once, that might have upset Stiles, but now he was just relieved.

Stiles felt bad for Kira, though. She already had to deal with coming to a new school and having her dad as her teacher; she was obviously interested in Scott, who was dealing with the new thing between Allison and Isaac, rather than paying attention to the awesome girl in front of him. She was nice, but kind of geeky and awkward in a way that Stiles knew from experience would rub some people the wrong way. Stiles watched her struggle with a pudding cup and wondered if he couldn't get Lydia to take Kira under her wing.

"Let me help you with that." Stiles grabbed the pudding before Kira could stab it with a fork. "You can use a sword, but jello is your downfall?"

"Maybe they super shrink-wrapped it or something," Kira blushed as Stiles handed her the pudding. "Thanks."

Kira graciously did not comment on Stiles's appearance or lack of communication for the rest of the lunch period, and thereafter Stiles found himself gravitating toward her at school. The two rarely spoke to each other, but Kira always smiled at him and touched his arm when he zoned out, so Stiles started bringing her pudding cups in thanks. He always opened them for her first.

Where Kira gave Stiles space to deal, Scott was less forgiving. Scott had been his closest confidant for a decade, and was not against using his "best friend bonus" against Stiles if necessary.

Scott was easily distracted at school, but outside of school was another matter. Though Stiles worked hard to keep Scott out of concerned friend mode, he also enjoyed the extra time they spent together as a result of Scott and Allison’s break-up. Pushing aside all of the potential disasters of the future, it was nice to hang out and just be teenagers again.

It was a Monday, but because both the Sheriff and Mrs. McCall were working late shifts, the boys had revived a grade school tradition of going to one of their houses after school—Scott’s this time—watching afternoon cartoons and doing homework at the coffee table, ordering cheese pizza and watching a movie at dinner, and curling up in their sleeping bags on Scott’s bedroom floor to sleep. They decided to cram themselves onto Scott's bed rather than use sleeping bags when Scott accidentally ripped a hole in his, but otherwise, it was just like old times.

(If the boys had to wipe their eyes once or twice during the night, neither one of them mentioned it.)

It wasn't until the boys were finally ready for sleep that Scott whispered into the darkened room. "You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

Stiles smiled, even though Scott couldn't see him. This was the best part about having a brother--Scott would always be there for him. "I know."

"If it came down to you or Isaac, or you and Allison, I'd choose you. Every time. I just want you to know that." Scott grabbed Stiles's hand, squeezing it tightly once before letting go.

"Thanks," he whispered, knowing that Scott would hear him anyway.

Stiles hadn't planned on falling asleep, but Scott was a comforting presence next to him, and Stiles quickly followed his friend into unconsciousness.

He didn't dream at all.

<> <>

Tonight, Stiles and Kol were meeting in Mystic Falls Cemetery. They had avoided this spot at first, sticking to the surrounding forest, but considering the preserve was primarily woodland as well, the boys needed a change of scenery, no matter how morbid.

Stiles's current pastime involved making up stories about the people in residence. "See these two here?" He reached down to brush the leaves from the grave, pointing to the inscription. "They don't belong here. They weren't very old, either. I'm guessing she died while he was away, and her parents buried her here, so he had no choice but to come as well."

"He died in the war." At Stiles's puzzled look, he continued, "Look at the date. He fought in the Civil War. They never got to travel like they wanted." He gestured vaguely to the stones around them. "This, the actual cemetery, is in Virginia."

"I'd like to travel someday, if Beacon Hills doesn't kill me first," he said softly.

Kol wasn’t sure how to respond to that, though he was feeling the surprising urge to maim something. Instead, he shrugged. "I've been around the world; I could show you things." At Stiles's dubious look, he grinned. "I'm much older than I look."

The other boy smiled widely and started enthusiastically planning possible itineraries.

<> <>

The most pressing item on tonight's agenda: finding the nemeton. Kol hadn't realized, until Stiles had casually brought it up a week ago, that for every time he and Stiles had wandered around the preserve, they had yet to see the nemeton.

Rather than act as a deterrent, through, it made both boys want to find it. Just to see if they could.

“Well,” Stiles said cheerfully, “since we have no idea how long our trip will take, let’s play Twenty Questions. I’ll start. What’s your favorite color?”

Kol glared at him, but the boy remained unrepentant. He huffed. “Blue.”

“Favorite food?”

Kol briefly considered mentioning blood to see if it would get a rise out of the boy, but went for roundabout truth, instead. “I don’t really eat food anymore, considering I’m dead.”

Stiles nodded solemnly, as if Kol had confirmed something for him. “Favorite day of the week?” he asked, ducking under a low-hanging branch.

“Saturday.” Kol paused. “I’m fairly certain this is not how this game is played.”

“Stilinski rules. Do you have any siblings?”

“Three brothers, one sister. All older. My younger brother died when we were young.”

“Are you close with them, your siblings? The only people I’m really close to are my dad and my best friend Scott."

"It seems to depend on the day, actually. Sometimes, I could gut any of them without a second thought. I suppose my brother Elijah is the most tolerable of the lot." He grabbed Stiles's arm, unconsciously guiding him around a tangle of roots. "But—”

Stiles smiled knowingly. “They’re still family and you love them?” He paused, giving Kol the same look he had when Kol had confirmed he didn't eat. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but what are you?”

“I’m a vampire.”

It was amusing watching Stiles’s full-body jerk when Kol made the announcement (though there was the momentary concern that Stiles would accidentally smash his head into a tree), but the boy recovered quickly. “So, favorite movie? Wait, let me guess: _Dracula_. You have that Gary Oldman 'suave but badass' vibe. Or maybe _Dead and Loving It_? I bet comedies are definitely your thing." Stiles grinned when Kol just rolled his eyes. “What, is the all-powerful vampire too good to go to the movies? Is that too plebeian for you?”

“I don’t really go out for entertainment purposes. Or, I didn’t when I was still alive. I doubt most people would call my brand of bloody mayhem entertainment.” Especially the ones who were losing the blood.

“What made you stop mayhem-ing?”

“I didn’t have a choice. I started attracting too much attention. My brother Nik threatened to dagger me and Rebekah to heave my coffin into the sea if I drew our parents to us. Especially Esther, though Mikael wasn't much better."

Stiles’s breath caught in his throat as Kol spoke. Nik. Rebekah. Esther. Mikael. He knew those names. Those were names he had learned from his mother, in the stories of the terrible, beautiful people they were hiding from. “What did you say?”

“My mother, Esther—“

“What’s your last name?” Stiles asked breathlessly, shifting backwards slightly.

Kol frowned, noticing the movement. “Mikaelson.”

All the blood drained from Stiles’s face. “Oh my god,” he said, moving further away. “Are you going to kill me?”

“WHAT?” What the bloody hell? Surely, this boy hadn’t dealt with his family before, had he?

“Has all this been just a game to you? A ‘let’s follow the boy little witch boy and let him know that mommy’s watching’ sort of thing? I’m sorry, l mean I guess she’s sort of my mom too, but I’d never met her before and she was being weird, and then she came after my mom and I just wanted to protect her—"

Kol grabbed Stiles's shoulders, just enough to stop his backwards movement, forcing Stiles to focus. “What are you talking about?”

Stiles took a deep breath, then another, and another, and stared into Kol’s eyes. “I’m pretty sure that I’m your brother. Sort of.”

(Silence. And staring.)

Kol could count the number of times he’d been dumbfounded since being turned into a vampire on one hand, but Elijah could have turned up wearing a hula skirt and Kol would have been less surprised. He thought he might actually feel light-headed, which should be impossible because his heart wasn't pumping blood to his brain. By the time Kol came back to himself, Stiles was much further away, heading back toward the entrance.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, twisting his hands. "We’ll look for the nemeton next time. I have to go!"

Kol watched Stiles as he vanished into the woods, and didn't go after him.

<> <>

Stiles was so, so tired. He wanted to lay down and stop moving. His friends would understand, right? After a few more halting steps, he let himself slide to the floor, resting his head against a locker.

He glanced up, hoping to see Kol loitering in the hallway, but the other man wasn't there.

Of course he isn't here. This isn't the woods, and he probably hates you now, anyway.

Stiles missed him. Stiles had gotten used to his presence, and he felt strangely adrift now that it was gone. Pushing away from the locker, Stiles resolved to keep walking until he found his probably-brother. He'd go to the nemeton. That's where they had been going before Stiles ruined everything. Right?

He stumbled outside, leaving the doors open behind him.

<> <>

The next thing that he remembers clearly is standing on Scott’s porch, Ms. McCall squinting at him in concern. He watches her reach out, hesitate briefly, and pull him inside toward the couch.

“Stiles, honey, are you okay?” Melissa McCall puts her hand to his forehead without waiting for an answer. “Do I need to call your dad?”

Stiles isn’t sure what to say to his second mom; he’s not sure why he came to Scott’s house instead of his own. His dad was working tonight, but it wasn’t like Stiles hadn’t stayed home alone plenty of times in the past--he had practically raised himself for a few months after his mom had died. He fleetingly thinks that maybe the pack bonds pulled him here—in the last few weeks the wolves have become increasingly in tune with his, Lydia’s, and Allison’s emotions. Or, maybe it's because, since he lost Kol, Scott's the only brother he has left.

He glances to the top of the stairs to see Scott and Isaac watching him, bleary-eyed but concerned. He pulls his gaze back to Mrs. McCall and gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, really. I think I was just sleepwalking. I should go home now.”

Rather than let him leave, however, Melissa pushes him down on the couch, a worried frown on her face. "I'm not going to let you walk home, Stiles. Let me just grab my keys."

Almost immediately after Melissa had left the room, something crashed upstairs, and Stiles looked toward the staircase with a wry smile. "You two sure are noisy for werewolves" he joked, following the suddenly empty stairway up to Scott's bedroom. He'd think that Scott and Isaac would want to go back to sleep, but who knew what they were doing?

"Scott? You know your mom will kill you if you break anything, right?" he called, reaching for his friend’s door. For some reason, the door was locked, and the handle was surprisingly slippery. There was another thump from behind the door, and Stiles stepped forward to take the handle again. The carpet squished under his shoes, and he couldn't get the red off of his hands--

"Stiles! WAKE UP!" He jerked awake with a gasp, face smashed into Mrs. McCall's shoulder. He could see vague shapes from behind her that he assumed were Scott and Isaac, but he ignored them in favor of concentrating on his breathing, wrapping his arms around his surrogate mom for comfort. At some point, Scott and Isaac moved to the couch, offering silent support, and by the time Mrs. McCall dropped Stiles off an hour later, Stiles felt drained but a tiny bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inscription that Kol and Stiles see in the graveyard is from a poem called "The Gravestone" by William Allingham. Unfortunately, it didn't make any sense for me to put it in the body of the fic, but search for it online if you're interested in reading it.
> 
> Next week: Chapters 5-6, and another short fic in my collection.


	5. Chapter 5

"So, you have no idea why she left?” Davina asked skeptically. She couldn’t imagine a situation where Esther Mikaelson would suddenly stop in the middle of achieving her long-awaited goal of destroying her children.

Rebekah could understand the witch’s surprise. She and her brothers didn’t know what to think, either. “She started the spell, but something went wrong. She went a bit nuts, then left. Frankly, I don’t care as long as she’s gone.”

“Maybe it’s some sort of trick?” Davina asked hopefully, turning unconsciously toward the door. The Original siblings had invaded her space, and she wanted them gone as soon as possible.

“Mother was muttering about a witch before she left. Know anyone stupid enough to try to take on our mother?” Niklaus asked.

“I assume you want me to find out? With absolutely no information to go on?”

"You are one of the strongest witches in the Quarter. I'm sure you can find something useful."

“We do have some information.” Elijah said, thoughtfully. “We can assume that this witch lives outside of New Orleans. Mother also addressed the witch as ‘him’, so that eliminates certain bloodlines.”

“Actually,” Finn added, gliding into the room, “Mother implied that witch was a woman, but I agree, she did mention someone else. I think we can assume that these people were close to our mother at one time." The eldest Mikaelson glanced at each of his siblings in turn. "This is not just a quest for power, useful though it may be. This was a spell on our bloodline, which means that that the lack of a specific ingredient caused it to fail. It's also why we keep shifting between vampire and human."

Niklaus rolled his eyes. "Which ingredient might that be, dear brother?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"Stop being insufferable and get to the point!"

"I think our mother had another child."

<> <>

Two weeks after Esther had disappeared, the siblings were no closer to finding the witch. After getting no answers among the witches in New Orleans, Davina had reached out to other witches, and then to other supernaturals when that didn’t work. She was still waiting to hear from some of her contacts, but the supernatural world was very insular, and she didn’t hold out much hope for more information. It didn’t help that Klaus kept threatening to “permanently injure” anyone who provided false information. Rather than come forward, chances were far higher that the witch she was searching for would hear of her inquiries and go into hiding; no one with any self-preservation or common sense wanted to tangle with the Originals.

That was why, after only two weeks of searching, Davina came up with an impulsive plan to find the witch and ultimately get the Mikaelsons out of her hair. “The search is not going well, but I have an idea. I need you to listen before you say anything, okay?” Seeing nods, she continued. “I think that we should resurrect your brother Kol.”

The uproar from Klaus was immediate, and Davina had to squash the urge to hide under her desk during Klaus’s rather impassioned, “I tried to save my brother…he’s gone…what does Kol have to do with anything…why didn’t you do this before…if something goes wrong I’ll kill you” rant. Finally, he stopped for a moment, and Finn jumped into the conversation.

“How will resurrecting Kol help us find the witch?” he asked.

“All witches have grimoires, or books of spells, based on their family's standing and abilities. Very few would know a resurrection spell, let alone have the power to try it. Successfully performing it would be of huge interest to the community.”

“You’re hoping that the witch will hear of it and what, call us to chat about how we managed?” Klaus sneered, not quite calmed down.

“No. This witch has obviously fought Esther before and survived. I’m hoping that she will see how powerful we are, and help us take Esther down. We use Kol to send her the message.”

"So you want to use her to defeat Esther?"

Davina nodded. She probably should have felt badly for the witch, but really, she just wanted the Mikaelsons to leave her alone.

"It would be a shame to waste such a valuable resource," Klaus agreed.

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "What's the message: ‘Hey, we brought back a dead guy, come play with us?’"

"Maybe she'll be more willing to take a risk if he believes she will be resurrected if something goes wrong."

"If she knows about Esther," Davina interjected, "she'll likely know not to trust the rest of you."

"We will just have to convince her, then. Even if it doesn't work, we will still have our brother back."

“Well,” Rebekah said, glancing at her nails, “it has been rather dull without Kol around.”

Klaus grinned.

<> <>

Kol woke with a gasp, eyes darting around the room. The cloying scent of incense hung heavily in the air, making his head pound. He distantly noticed Klaus hovering in the corner, and Rebekah draping herself across the chair, but something else hovered at the back of his mind—

 _Stiles_.

Kol quickly rose to his feet, only to stumble back towards to bed with dizziness. Only Rebekah’s arms around him kept him upright. “Easy, brother. Your mischief will have to wait for another day”, she said with a smirk. “You’ve been dead for a while now.”

 _Who cares how long I’ve been dead_? Kol wanted to say. He settled for snarling in his sister's surprised face instead. "Sorry to cut short what I’m sure will be a touching family reunion, but I’m needed elsewhere.” He shrugged off Rebekah’s arms and slowly moved toward the door, gaining strength as he walked.

“Is that any way to thank the family that saved your life?” Klaus asked, moving to block the door.

Kol scoffed. “We both know you only brought me back because you need something. I may have been a bit wild in the past, but even I know that it takes more than blood to make a family. You and Bekah and Elijah have your ‘always and forever’ nonsense, but Finn and I were just an inconvenience to you. Excuse me if I don’t have time to participate in your latest plot. Besides, if you really wanted to ‘save me’, as you put it, you would have done it before now.”

Klaus's face darkened immediately. “I could just go ahead and kill you again, put us both out of our misery!" 

“Excellent. Not even alive thirty minutes and you’re already threatening to kill me again. That must be some kind of record, even for us.” Kol felt his siblings’ angry eyes follow him as he walked out.

<> <>

Despite having only been alive again for a couple of hours, Kol was surprisingly clear-headed in his current plans, which was good because he had a feeling he would need as much magical assistance as possible to help his brother. He considered asking Finn for help, but decided that would make the others too suspicious of his whereabouts and potentially cause trouble later. Kol’s interactions with Stiles may have started out as an alternative to boredom, but he had grown to care for Stiles quickly, much to his surprise, and finding out that they were brothers only solidified those feelings. He had been shocked at first, of course, but being dead had given him plenty of free time. The fact that Stiles was Kol's only source of amusement had initially drawn him to the younger man, but the more they spoke, the closer the boys became. Seeing Stiles suffer made Kol think about his relationships with his other siblings, and how they still lacked the closeness that Kol had started feeling with Stiles in only a few weeks.

Now, instead of teasing and testing his older siblings to find out what was going on, he just wanted to get out of town. Somehow, the thought of seeing his youngest brother in person filled him with a sense of excitement Kol hadn't felt in a while. Seeing Elijah standing impassively in the doorway only irked him.

“Here.” Kol tossed a small vial at his brother. “Here’s a bit of my blood so you and Nik can do whatever stupid ritual you decided you needed to resurrect me for.”

There was no outward reaction to the gift, but Kol hadn't expected one. “What if we just want to be a family again?”

Kol rolled his eyes. “You, Nik, and Rebekah stopped thinking of me as family a long time ago, and you know it. And Finn is too caught up in his search for his girlfriend to notice I’m not around. He probably doesn’t even know I’m back.”

“We need to work together to truly defeat Mother; surely, you realize that you must stay.”

“Actually, I _know_ that I need to leave. I have important things to do.”

“Nothing is more important than family!”

"An interesting sentiment; if only I believed you." Kol snickered at the hurt look on his brother's face. Elijah was far too honorable sometimes; sending him to convince Kol to stay was ridiculous. "Oh well, I'm sure you’ll get over my absence soon enough.” Kol clapped his brother’s shoulder and steered him from the room. “I am, after all, the annoying, irresponsible brother,” he said snidely, shutting the door in Elijah’s face.

Kol knew that he was being unreasonable, but according to his siblings that was completely normal for him, so he didn’t bother to dwell on it. By his calculations, he hadn't seen Stiles in a couple of weeks, and he wanted to speak with his youngest brother again, to let Stiles know that he had nothing to fear from Kol.

He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to drop everything and rush to his baby brother’s side; unfortunately, it wouldn’t do anyone any good to be ill prepared if Mother showed up in Beacon Hills. Kol didn't know the circumstances of his brother's birth, but he'd be willing to wager that Esther hadn't "made a love match" with Stiles's father. Mother may have vanished for the moment, but Kol knew that Esther could pop up at any time without warning, especially considering the fact that Stiles's mother had thwarted Esther at least once in the past. To be honest, he was also having a bit of trouble dealing with all the emotions that having a little brother made him feel.

Stiles was not Henrik, and Kol didn't want him to be, but Kol wondered if Stiles could bring the family back together, or if his siblings, Niklaus especially, would push away yet another chance for happiness.

His siblings had unsurprisingly gone through his belongings while he'd been dead, but thankfully had not found as many of his magical items as he'd been anticipating. Moving quickly around the room, Kol shoved as many of his dark objects with him as he could carry in a bag (anything else needed he could purchase in California), and hid the bag.

He would need to wait for his siblings to be suitably distracted—preferably with the arrival of their mother—to leave. The objects weren't all powerful individually, but his siblings would be able to feel the magic of so many spelled items in such close proximity to one another. Any one of these objects could make the difference in keeping Stiles safe, and he would rather keep them out of Niklaus's or Rebekah's hands anyway. He supposed he should feel guilty about wishing ill on his older siblings, but Stiles had earned his affection, and needed the protection. He knew Stiles wasn’t helpless, but Esther had shown a remarkable ability to claw her way back from death, and Stiles was already dealing with enough at the moment. His other siblings would heal. Probably.


	6. Chapter 6

The ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’ sign was much bigger than was generally befitting a town of its size, as if surreptitiously warning people that the town was more than it seemed to be. The vampire smirked when he noticed that the number of residents had been crossed out multiple times, with each number lower than the last. Either someone had a dark sense of humor, or this was an increasingly dangerous place to live. Perhaps both.

The two days it had taken to reach California had given Kol more time for introspection than he had ever taken in his life, and after he had gotten over the pressing feeling that his life was changing forever, Kol had decided that Beacon Hills would be a nice enough place to settle for a while.

Of course, that assumed that Stiles was willing to speak to him. It had been almost three weeks since they had last had contact; first, because his little brother deserved space to think, and then, because he couldn't connect with Stiles after he was resurrected. He knew the name of the town where Stiles lived, but he'd had no way of contacting the other boy. Was Stiles safe? Would he be happy to see Kol? Angry? Scared? Shaking off his apprehension, Kol knocked on his brother's door.

<> <>

Kol wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Stiles answered the door, but the boy looked terrible. He was pale, with dark smudges under his eyes, and Kol could see his hand trembling minutely against the doorframe as he held it open. Stiles blinked slowly once. Twice.

"Am I dead?" he asked finally, and Kol's expression darkened.

"No."

Stiles glanced quickly at his fingers; counted to ten. "Are you dead?" he asked quietly.

"No, I'm not. At least, no more than usual; though I am a little less dead than the last time you saw me."

"Why are you here?"

Kol looked affronted. "I came to protect my little brother, of course."

An unbidden smile broke out on Kol’s face as Stiles shot forward, wrapping his arms around the vampire. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Stiles breathed into his shoulder.

<> <>

The house was modest, but obviously cared for. Kol could tell that Stiles was anxious about the state of the house as he took Kol around, but Kol thought the home rather charming for its size. It wasn't nearly as big as some of his family's houses, but it felt infinitely more lived in. This was a place built with love; something he sometimes still hoped for with his own family, the way they had been when Henrik was still alive. He wondered if a place like this could offer him the same peace and comfort to him as it did to Stiles.

“It’s not much,” Stiles said, shrugging apologetically. "We've mostly kept it the way it was when Mom died. Sorry."

It was more of a home than Kol had lived in for decades. He put his arm around his brother. “It’s good," the vampire said, and he meant it.

It took three days for Kol to meet Stiles's father, mostly because the Sheriff was on night shifts, which didn't give father and son much time to speak during the daylight hours. Kol’s introduction to Stiles’s father turned out to be both more and less stressful than he was expecting.

Considering how both Stiles and his dad felt about all of the secrets Stiles had been keeping prior to the kidnapping (which Kol had gotten the details of over the last few days), Stiles and Kol decided that they should tell the Sheriff the truth about how they met and who they were to each other. They didn’t agree, however, on whether or not to tell him about the shadow: Stiles wanted to protect his father from a potential heart attack, while Kol argued that it was a father’s job to protect his son.

"This is exactly like the sacrifice, isn't it? You ignore your own needs to spare your father, who doesn't need protection!"

"Mom made me promise to take care of him!"

"This isn't what she meant, and you know it."

"What are you going to do, compel me?"

Kol had to admit that the idea was tempting; he was about two seconds from forcing Stiles into telling his father everything when Stiles deflated and conceded the point. Kol didn’t have much time to consider the change of heart before Stiles burst into a flurry of activity, muttering about being prepared.

By the time the Sheriff returned home, Stiles had made dinner, cleaned the house, and repeatedly practiced how he was going to tell his dad that: a) he was being stalked by something; b) Esther Mikaelson knew he was alive; c) one of his older siblings had come to visit; and d) his older siblings were all vampires. His dad, of course, was used to Stiles’s manic tendencies, and patiently waited through dinner for Stiles to explain what was going on. He accepted the brief “This is my friend Kol” with a friendly smile, and the “eat your vegetables, Dad, they’re good for you” with amusement, waiting for the real news.

William Stilinski was all too familiar with his son's tendency to "omit" information in the name of protecting his dad (or Scott) from all sorts of unpleasant things. He could see the way that Stiles had been pulling away from his friends, and looking more and more haggard. He offered comfort where he could—holding Stiles when he screamed himself awake, helping with homework when Stiles couldn’t concentrate—but he didn’t know what else he could do to help his son. No one really understood how this “darkness around the heart” thing worked, but the Sheriff would be damned if he continued to let his boy suffer. Unfortunately, he could only help as much as Stiles let him. No matter how many times the Sheriff had explained that _he_ was the father, and that Stiles was the son, he knew that Stiles would do practically anything to protect the people he loved. He was exactly like his mother that way.

So, as Stiles slowly told his father about the nightmares, and exhaustion, and hallucinations, he wasn’t angry that Stiles had kept the details of his nightmares from him, just frustrated as hell. In fact, if Kol hadn’t been there, Will probably would have pulled his son into his arms and hugged him until they were both crying. As it was, he settled for a hand on the knee and what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

Stiles and Kol exchanged a long look.

“There’s more than just the nightmares, Dad.” Will watched his son visibly steel himself before continuing, “I met Kol during the sacrifice, and then I kept seeing him in my dreams.”

“So how are you here now?” the Sheriff addressed the other boy.

“My siblings resurrected me to help them fight our mother, but I wanted to help Stiles instead.”

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Why? You say you were dead, and your siblings saved you, but instead of staying with them, you come here to see my son. Is this some sort of magical problem?” Both boys glanced away, and Will sighed. “Look, boys, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the issue.”

Kol startled slightly, like he hadn’t expected to be included in the offer of help. Then he sighed, and for a moment, he looked so forlorn that Will had to steel himself against drawing the other boy into a hug; unsure whether or not the gesture would be appreciated. He glanced at Stiles again. “Stiles and I don’t know why we were brought together, but I’m drawn to him personally and magically, and I’m going to do whatever is necessary to keep him safe. From everyone."

If the Sheriff was bothered by the mention of Stiles’s magic, he didn’t show it. “Again, I’ll ask you, why?”

“Because he’s my brother. My full name is Kol Mikaelson.”

<> <>

The first thing Stiles noticed was the sound of running water, like a bathtub filling. It didn’t make sense, though; his clock said that it was a little after two in the morning, so his dad wouldn’t be home for hours. Plus, why would anyone use the downstairs bathroom? No one had used it since the last time his Grandma Anna had visited, and that was years ago. He thinks that he should get up and turn the water off, but he’s tired, and his limbs are too heavy, and his entire body hurts, and he's tired of never knowing if he’s awake or asleep anymore. He feels like he’s still holding Derek up in the pool, and the weight keeps getting harder to bear, and he knows that he'll drown soon. Stiles forces himself up, though, because he can’t just leave the water running, no matter how much he wants to go back to sleep.

“Kol? Is that you?” Maybe Kol had come back and decided to stay downstairs? He didn’t really want to go downstairs, but what if Kol needed him? Cursing himself for potentially being the cliché horror victim ( _Going down dark basement stairs alone, really Stiles_?), he followed the sound that had brought him here in the first place.

The basement bathroom was small, tucked into a corner with a spare bedroom that was rarely used. The carpet squelched as Stiles approached, and he winced because he knew that his dad couldn’t afford to pay for new carpet right now. Kol would have to take care of it; after all, he was the one that left the water on, right?

“Kol, are you down here?”

No answer. For some reason, the bathroom door was closed, but it wasn’t locked so Stiles just walked right in. It seemed silly for someone to turn on the water, shut the door, and walk away, but people had done stranger things in this town. Stiles would just have to turn the water off himself.

Thankfully, whoever had turned the water on had just used cold, so at least they hadn’t wasted all of the hot water; he wanted his dad to be able to take a hot shower whenever he got home. He turned off the tap, deciding at the last minute to leave the water in the tub as proof to his dad that this weirdness had actually happened. He turned back toward the bathroom door and took a step before something grabbed him from behind, jerking him backwards and into the tub. The water was freezing, and Stiles yelped with shock, only to find himself somehow trapped under the water. Whatever had pulled him in was keeping him down. He couldn't see anything anywhere, but he couldn't break free, and he couldn't breathe. He thrashed and kicked against invisible bonds, but the more he struggled, the less he could move, until all he could do was swallow water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Chapters 7-8, and another small fic. 
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it, and to everyone else, have a nice Thursday. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Kol wasn't the least bit surprised by how the Sheriff had reacted to his name. Stiles's father wasted no time in asking the vampire to leave, much to Stiles's dismay. Instead, rather than rejecting him as Kol had feared, Stiles had tearfully apologized to Kol for what he saw as his father's unfair prejudice against him. Kol easily brushed it off, because he was quite sure that most of the unflattering stories Claudia Stilinski had told her husband and son about his family were true.

After the Sheriff had rescinded Kol's invitation to his home, Kol had stayed outside long enough to hear Stiles explain again how the two of them had met and why he had been resurrected before going in search of other lodgings. Stiles told his understandably upset father that Esther knew that he was alive. He also told him that Kol was hiding from the rest of their siblings, and that the four of them knew nothing about Stiles, other than that he existed.

The vampire was still awake one night a week later when he heard a heavy thud outside his door. Curious, he opened the door to find Stiles lying in a heap at his doorstep. He was soaked, his skin ice cold, lips blue, and, Kol noticed with horror, not breathing.

Kol panicked for a moment, trying to remember exactly how CPR worked. _Where did the_ _hands go_? Damn it, this hadn’t exactly been a necessary skill before! Thankfully, his body took over while his mind was blank, because before he realized that he was moving, his hands were doing chest compressions and he knelt down to breathe into his brother’s mouth.

Stiles immediately started coughing up water, and Kol turned the boy to help him expel all the liquid. Once Stiles seemed to be breathing normally, Kol scooped him up and carried him into the bathroom to dry him off. Stiles didn’t wake, his head lolling listlessly against his brother’s shoulder as Kol hurriedly changed the other boy's clothes. Kol carried him back into the bedroom, bundled the boy in every blanket in the room, and deposited him in the center of the bed. Kol had no idea what had happened to Stiles, but he was definitely going to find out. It didn’t matter if the Sheriff wanted to talk to him or not, now he would have no choice.

<> <>

Stiles wakes up screaming like someone is trying to murder him in his bed, and it freezes Kol’s heart to watch Stiles’s father struggle to contain his thrashing son. The Sheriff finally gets a good grip and starts whispering soothing words into his son’s ear until Stiles comes back to himself with a gasp.

“Stiles, you’re going to be okay,” his father assures him.

Stiles just looks at his dad for a moment, confused, before he starts to shake. "I want to wake up," he begged, thrashing weakly against his father. "This is a dream. Please let me wake up."

"Stiles. Look at me," his father says, gently shaking the boy when he didn't respond. "I promise you, you're awake. Okay?" At Stiles's hesitant nod, he continued, "Let's count fingers, okay?"

Kol watches as the Sheriff patiently waits for Stiles to count out all ten fingers. Stiles finally lets out an exhausted breath and slumps into his father's arms, crying quietly.

The Sheriff just holds his son tighter, waiting for the shock to pass. After a long while, Stiles calms down enough to notice that he and his dad are not the only people in the room.

“Dad?” Stiles tries to shift, but his father is holding him too tightly. His eyes widen as he spots Kol. “What’s Kol doing here? Did you two make up without me?”

“What do you remember?”

“The water was on downstairs, so I went to turn it off. Then...I was in the water...and I couldn't breathe--"

“You somehow ended up outside my room. You were wet, and freezing, and dead.” Kol looks at Stiles, and the younger boy can see fear there. “I got you breathing again, and I called your father.”

Stiles finally looks around, and recognizes the décor from one of the nicer hotels in town. “How did I get here?”

Stiles feels his dad's shoulders slump from behind him and immediately knows the answer. “We don’t know.” The Sheriff moves out from behind his son, pushing Stiles down into the pillows. “Get some rest. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Stiles drifts off to the feeling of his dad's hands smoothing his hair.

<> <>

Stiles woke to the sound of muffled voices. His head felt heavy and his chest ached, but he was back in his own bed, so Stiles counted that as a win. He slowly moved his arms, then his legs, but made no move to get up. Instead, he focused on the voices in the hallway, trying to make out what they were saying.

“…just want…protect him.” _What was Scott doing here_?

“He doesn’t need…” _Kol? When did Scott meet Kol_?

“You can barely…yourself…Scott.” _His dad sounded frustrated_. “I talked to your mother…”

“I want to stay with him,” he heard Scott say, and Stiles was torn. He missed his best friend, but Scott would take it badly that Stiles had been suffering without him, and Stiles wasn't really up to dealing with that at the moment. Stiles didn’t have time to get nervous, though, before Scott burst into his room, dropping on Stiles’s bed with an oomph and wrapping his arms around his friend.

"I was so worried about you,” Scott whispered. “I knew you were having trouble sleeping, but you didn’t come to school for three days and I came over and there was this strange man answering your door—“

Stiles's jaw dropped. “Kol answered the door?”

“Yes," Scott nodded. "And your Dad wouldn’t tell me anything—“

“Is he staying here?”

“YES," the werewolf admitted, glaring at the other boy when he opened his mouth to interrupt again. "Stiles?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“If you don’t stay quiet and let me yell at you, I’m going to punch you.”

A pause. “Carry on.”

“Anyway,” Scott rolled his eyes and gripped his friend tighter. “I know that I haven’t been the best of friends lately, but you know you can tell me anything, right?”

It was almost exactly the same thing that Scott had said to him before. Stiles _did_ know that he could tell Scott anything, and had known it since Scott pushed Jackson for stealing Stiles’s swing in elementary school. Still, he hesitated. There was a lot to tell, and Scott definitely wouldn't like the part about murderous relatives.

Stiles took a deep breath and told him everything anyway.

<> <>

It took Stiles a lot longer to tell Scott everything than he thought. He started with his parents, and how they were magical, and he was, too. He talked about the Mikaelsons and their reputations, about Esther and how his mom had tricked Esther into believing that Stiles was dead, and the sacrifice and the dreams and Kol. Scott was latched onto him like a spectacularly persistent barnacle by the time he was finished, eyes full of determination.

"So vampires are real?"

"Yep."

"And we probably can't kill them?"

"Nope."

Scott looked thoughtful for a moment before he consoled, "Well, they said that Voldemort couldn't be defeated, either." At Stiles's dubious look, he added, "We just need to find someone to train you. You said Kol used to know magic, right? Maybe he can train you."

Stiles wasn't sure how a vampire training a witch would work, but he could give it a shot. Knowing a little was better than not knowing anything, after all.

<> <>

Telling Scott the truth hadn’t really solved anything, but Stiles somehow felt lighter anyway, like they finally had a plan of action. There was no way that he could learn everything he had missed over the last few years before somebody showed up to kill him, but every little thing could be the thing that saved a life, so he would learn as much as he could in the time that he had.

Scott stayed for a day of video games, and Stiles let himself pretend for a while longer that everything was normal. His dad checked on him periodically, both to make sure that Stiles was feeling well and to keep the boys from consuming their own weights in junk food. Eventually, though, Scott had to go home, and Stiles waited to see whether it would be his dad or Kol that would start fussing first. Impatient, he finally decided to skip the suspense altogether and meet both of them downstairs.

“So,” Stiles said from the bottom of the stairs. He could feel both pairs of eyes on him, but he was suddenly afraid to look up from a fascinating spot on the floor. “I’m glad that you’re getting along better and I’m sorry for the almost drowning thing and I’m sorry for showing up at your hotel, though I don’t know how I did that—“ He took a breath to say more, but his face was suddenly buried in his dad’s shoulder, and he was blinking back tears in his eyes.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, kid,” his dad said, voice thick. “Just try to lay off the weird for a day or two, huh? I'm not sure my heart can take it."

<> <>

Kol was startled awake only a couple of hours later by strangled screams from the bedroom down the hall. Kol threw the door open to find his younger brother sweaty, face ashen and tangled on his sheets as he tried to fight off whatever he saw in his nightmares. Kol put his arms around his brother like he had seen the Sheriff do, softly shushing Stiles in an attempt to calm him down. On one hand, Kol felt ridiculous—the idea that he could comfort anyone seemed odd—and on the other, Kol realized that he desperately wanted to protect his younger brother from all the dangers of the world. It was both a strange and heady feeling.

Stiles bites back a sob, shoving his head into Kol’s chest. His hands shake as he clutches at his brother’s shirt. “I’m sorry," he breathed wetly. "I’m sorry. I know I should be stronger than this—“ 

“Hey, no. Stiles, look at me. You’re a teenager, you shouldn’t have to deal with this. You should be choosing a university, or traveling through Europe, or getting into normal trouble, not this.” 

Stiles gives a hiccupping sort of sob, glaring at his brother. “Do you even know what normal teenage trouble looks like?” 

Kol scoffed. “I was a normal teenaged human once.” 

“Yeah, back in the literal Dark Ages.”

After what seemed like hours, Stiles finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. Kol briefly considered going back to his room, if for no other reason than to spare his brother’s dignity, but after watching Stiles shift restlessly for a few minutes, Kol settled in next to his human brother, ready for a long night.

<> <>

After Kol abruptly left New Orleans, the rest of the family had little time to spare for hunting their wayward brother, focusing instead on finding the missing witch. Obviously, the witch in question was either unimpressed by or uninterested in Kol's resurrection, so the siblings needed a new strategy. It took two months of currying and granting favors for Davina to find someone who could give the Mikaelsons answers. Everyone was reserving judgement at this point—there had been too many false leads—but the young witch felt confident that the druid in question was reliable. The woman was old, and homebound, so the Originals made the trip to North Dakota to see her. The young witch warned them against antagonizing the druid in any way, going so far as to tell Niklaus that no one in the city would be powerful enough to help if the woman decided to curse him.

Nearly three days and countless bickering later, the siblings met a woman with a frail body and piercing eyes who said that she could tell them what they needed to know, assuming that they were willing to listen. She casually invited the vampires into her home, sat them down, and then promptly ignored them as she set about making coffee and scones.

“Someone’s finally looking for answers," she began, fixing each person a cup exactly to preference, "With all of this wolf nonsense, I was afraid the poor boy would be killed before the truth came to light.” She glared at each of the Originals in turn, as if judging them for not visiting her sooner.

"What can you tell us about the witch who bested our mother?" Klaus asked shortly.

The druid blinked at him. "Which witch was that?"

"Excuse me?" Klaus gritted his teeth, already impatient despite Davina's warning. Finn was surprised that his brother hadn't shattered his cup with how hard he was gripping it.

"Why do you keep asking stupid questions?” she huffed at him. "The witch is long dead. Who cares about the witch?"

"We came here for answers!"

“Eighteen years ago, your mother succeeded in crossing from the other side into our world. She couldn’t take human form, so she possessed a young witch with the intention of using the woman and her husband to conceive a child that Esther could mould and use against the rest of her family. Unfortunately for her, the witch was much more powerful than your mother expected, and she was able to cast Esther out and hide her growing family.” The woman sipped her coffee. “Esther was only able to find them once more, six years later. No one is entirely sure what happened, but a physical confrontation between the witch and your mother resulted in a rather brutal car accident which led to the deaths of both the witch and her son.”

Klaus was out of his seat before he even realized he was moving, his coffee cup crashing to the floor. “We had another brother?” He barely held back the urge to shake the old woman. Finn had suggested that they might have another sibling, of course, but for this woman to confirm that such a child _had_ existed, only to be murdered by their mother--

“Why didn’t anyone tell us? We could have protected him!”

The old druid watched impassively as Klaus raved about the situation and paced the small living room. She calmly cleaned up the mess, poured the hybrid another cup, and patiently distributed the scones among her other guests. Only when the hybrid looked to start throwing things did the woman move to place a hand on his arm. A firm, “sit down, if you please" and Klaus was back in his seat with a scone in his mouth quickly enough that the rest of them blinked in surprise.

“Why did our mother’s spell fail if the boy died?” Finn asked bluntly, attempting to get the conversation back on track.

“That is the question, isn’t it?” The woman smiled widely at the eldest Mikaelson, her expression unchanging as she surveyed the rest of them. "The boy’s mother did an excellent job of hiding both her bloodline and her son. The spell your Mother attempted was simple: it was designed to tie you together using your vampire natures as the base. It failed because not all of you are vampires."

"The spell didn’t work because your youngest brother is still alive.”


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Friday came around, Stiles was a nervous wreck. Scott was having a movie night at his house, and everyone in the pack, as well as Kol, had been instructed to show up. The rest of the pack knew that something was going on, but both Scott and Stiles refused to talk about it, no matter how much the others pressed them for information.

Stiles was fairly certain he already knew how everyone was going to react to Kol: Allison would be wary, Lydia would be fascinated, and Kira would appreciate another new face. It was Isaac's reaction, though, that worried Stiles the most. He would immediately be distrustful, partially due to his background, and partly due to Derek's influence, but Isaac would ultimately take his cues from Scott.

There was no question that Kol could defend himself against the pack if necessary, but Stiles wanted this meeting to go better than the tense one between Kol and Scott--especially since Scott was still giving him hurt looks about that.

Classes moved painfully slowly and by the end of the day, Stiles couldn't get out of the school fast enough. He drove home to pick up Kol, stopped off to get some snacks, and drove to Scott's house. He and his brother were the first ones there, and Stiles wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not. On one hand, people weren't staring at them as they walked in, but on the other, they had to wait for the inevitable inquisition. Stiles wasn't good at waiting, and he suspected Kol wasn't either.

Melissa McCall let them in with a smile that did not dim when she saw the vampire. Stiles suspected that his dad must have told her about Kol, because she didn't hesitate to invite him inside, and unlike her son, she didn't seem threatened by his presence at all.

(Of course, Melissa was an awesomely accepting person anyway, so his dad's opinion might not have had anything to do with it.)

Before Stiles knew what was happening, he and his brother were sitting on the couch and Kol was chatting politely with Melissa about her job. Stiles had told Kol that Melissa was like a surrogate mother to him, but he was still surprised by how much interest Kol was showing in getting to know the woman.

Scott was evidently picking up Allison and Kira, so Stiles and Kol spent more time than expected just talking to Scott's mom. Stiles wasn't sure where Isaac was, but Stiles found himself hoping that Scott would get home before the other boy. When Scott called his mom twenty minutes later to say that everyone else was running late, Kol surprised his brother again by casually offering to help Melissa with dinner. By the time the rest of the pack got to Scott's house, Melissa had already surreptitiously pulled Kol into the pack and her family and Stiles couldn't have been more grateful.

Stiles, Kol, and Melissa were just sitting down to eat when the rest of the pack showed up, bursting through the door like clowns out of a clown car. Lydia, of course, entered last at a much more leisurely pace as was befitting her personality. Stiles watched the pack take in the odd scene of himself and a stranger eating dinner with Melissa, looking on in amusement as the pack tried to figure out exactly what was happening. Melissa and Kol just continued on with their dinner like the others hadn't even arrived, and Stiles almost fell out of his chair laughing when Melissa nonchalantly asked Kol to pass her a dinner roll without missing a beat.

Lydia seemed to recover first, which wasn't surprising. She was probably more than halfway to figuring out that Kol was a vampire without any explanation at all. Scott still looked shocked, and he had already known that they would be having company. Had he expected Kol to hover in the shadows until Scott had introduced him? Stiles's disbelief must have shown on his face, because Kol pinched his arm when Stiles stared for too long.

In fact, everyone should have known that they were having company because Scott was supposed to tell the pack that day at lunch. Stiles could tell by the guilty look on Scott's face that he had either forgotten to tell them, or had willfully withheld the information. Sighing, Stiles felt a pat on his arm and looked up to see Melissa smiling at him supportively.

"I know that it's tough, but he's just trying to protect you, you know?" she said, watching her son's jaw drop at the sight of the vampire sitting with his mother and his best friend.

Stiles understood, but he also felt a bond with Kol that he didn't have with Scott. He and Scott would always be close, like brothers, and the connection he shared with his best friend was strong. He would do anything, including die, for Scott.

But Stiles and Kol literally _were_ brothers, and so were bonded, just as strongly, in a different way.

Stiles knew that Scott would accept Kol eventually, but it was hard to wait.

Stiles watched Scott shake off his surprise, but not before Lydia strode forward. She greeted Scott's mom with a smile, Stiles with a hug, and then turned to Kol. The girl eyed Kol critically for a moment, before turning back to Stiles. "Has he been helping you?" At Stiles's nod, she looked back to Kol. "Call me Lydia. I haven't known about the supernatural for long, but I can tell that you're powerful.” She held out her hand for Kol to shake and gave him a small smile when he kissed it instead. "I'm glad that you're here for Stiles, he needs someone to lean on." Scott made a sound of protest from behind her, but didn't interrupt. Her eyes narrowed, and Kol got the distinct impression that the girl was judging him. "However, if you hurt him in any way, they will never find all of the pieces of your body." Without waiting for a response, she turned to fetch her dinner from the kitchen.

Melissa met Kol's slightly stunned eyes and smirked. Most people had that reaction to Lydia, and Melissa was fairly certain that Kol hadn't encountered anyone quite like her in his life. However, he didn't have much time to think about it before his gaze was pulled away by the other two girls coming forward to introduce themselves.

The other two girls were fierce in their own ways. The first, a tall brunette, gazed at him as critically as Lydia had done before introducing herself as Allison and stating that she was an excellent shot, and would not hesitate to help Lydia hide a body. The second girl introduced herself as Kira, mentioned that she was a kitsune and said that even though she wasn't very good at hiding bodies, she was getting pretty good with a sword, so that maybe she could help with any necessary chopping.

Standing next to Scott was a tall blond boy who was watching him with clear distrust. With a gentle shove forward from Scott and a glare from behind him from at least one of the girls, Isaac introduced himself with his name and a scowl before going to the kitchen to get his food. Kol didn't know what kind of relationship his brother had with Isaac, but he didn't like that the tall boy did not try to defend his brother's honor like each of the others had. Kol's thoughts must have shown on his face, because Stiles put his hand on his brother's arm and motioned for him to continue eating.

After dinner, Scott sat everyone down to "officially" introduce Kol to the rest of the pack. Stiles explained about his magic, the Original family, and his connection to them. The rest of it was none of their business, and when Scott tried to bring it up, Stiles blatantly started discussing movie choices instead. Scott shot him a look, but didn't push.

Kol considered the night successful as well. Not only did the vampire get to meet his brother's surrogate mother, he was also impressed by the protectiveness he saw in Stiles's female friends. If the others _did_ come to town with the intention to harm, the young ladies would be valuable allies and valiant friends.

<> <>

Things changed noticeably after Kol was introduced to the pack. Scott was still hesitant, and Isaac was still hostile around the vampire, but the girls were openly accepting of Kol, if a little bit teasing. Allison kept choosing random creatures from the bestiary and asking Kol if he had ever seen them, Lydia tried to set up recurring research dates with him to answer all her supernaturally-related questions, and Kira kept grilling him for the "true story" about various historical events, though Stiles suspected Kira got most of her questions from her dad.

After his initial shock, Kol basked in the attention. Despite how often Stiles and Kol went out to eat and watch movies together, the two of them spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia and Kira as well. After a few weeks, Stiles found himself telling Lydia and Kira about his dreams, and was touched when Lydia spends five hours on a Saturday researching on his behalf.

While Kira and Lydia were helping Stiles and Kol deal with the nightmares, Stiles's dad had been dealing with the inevitable Mikaelson invasion, and finally got a chance to sit down with the boys to talk about it one night after the girls left.

"We need to talk about what's going to happen when your family undoubtedly finds you," the Sheriff starts bluntly, motioning for both boys to sit down. "You know your family has a bit of a bad reputation." Kol nods. "I don't want them to bring trouble to this town or to my son. I'm not going to ask you to promise me to keep Stiles safe, because I know that's an impossible task--"

"Hey!"

"But if I have to I will send Stiles so far away from here that your family will never find him again. I don't care what it takes. If I have to bind his magic, if I have to bind to my magic; it will break my heart, but I'll do it. Do you understand me?"

Kol considered his answer. Both the Sheriff and Stiles deserved to know what to expect, but he wasn't sure he could honestly reassure the man. "I'm not sure how my siblings will react to Stiles. I'd like to say that they will welcome him with open arms, but--"

"Your family is not known for rational thinking in stressful times," the Sheriff interrupted.

Kol grimaced and nodded. "If I need to, I'll distract them so that you can get Stiles out of town."

"In that case," Stiles added, "we'll need to figure out a place to meet up afterward."

Kol blinked. "What?"

"Did you honestly think that we would leave you behind?" Stiles looked at him in surprise. "I know it's really fast but you mean a lot to me, man. You're kind of stuck with me now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Chapters 9-10 (wherein the rest of the Mikaelson siblings finally make it to BH), and a standalone Bleach fic. Check it out if you're interested.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

The Original siblings felt the power shift as soon as they entered the town. No one commented on it, but each silently assumed that their little brother was somehow connected to the magic that permeated the area. Before their visit with the old woman, the siblings had assumed that they would use the unnamed witch to help them defeat their mother. That plan was made impossible once they realized that the now-deceased witch had raised their brother, and that Stiles, as he preferred to be called, was potentially a very powerful witch himself. Even Niklaus, who was usually ruthlessly practical in matters of power, seemed strangely hesitant to use Stiles for the family's gain. The druid had only given them the most basic facts about their brother--his age, general appearance, and his tendency to fall into danger with his werewolf best friend. They learned that Stiles was a witch _despite_ Esther Mikaelson, but that he carefully hid his power to protect those around him.

At that, Rebekah had joked that the boy didn't sound like a Mikaelson at all, to which the druid woman frowned and reminded her that the boy acted like the humans the Mikaelsons used to be. With the gentle admonition that perhaps they should start acting like themselves again, the woman made them promise to look after their brother and shortly thereafter ushered them out the door.

The siblings were halfway across Idaho before any of them truly realized the gravity of their situation. They had promised a complete stranger that they would protect a gifted boy who was meant to be used against them. The fact that their mother had been unsuccessful thus far in controlling Stiles didn't make him any less of a threat. And while family was extremely important to the siblings, they could not afford to dismiss the possibility that this boy was a danger to them. Of course, the fact that the boy was the reason that they currently had any power at all, as variable as it was, could not be forgotten either.

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In Elijah’s opinion, Stiles was incredibly lucky that he and his mother had fooled Esther the last time they met. Powerful witch or not, there was no way a seventeen-year-old boy could defeat their mother without help. It seemed that every time their mother chased them in the past, they had been captured, and only luck (and near immortality) had saved them. A human--even a powerful one--would be little match for a witch like their mother. Finn, Elijah, Niklaus, and Rebekah still didn't understand exactly how their mother's spell had failed, but the fact that they owed their lives to a teenage witch was somewhat ironic given their past exploits in Mystic Falls. Still, the vampires found themselves strangely excited about the prospect of greeting a new family member, and confused by the largely unfamiliar feelings that the boy brought out in his siblings without ever having met him. After all, the Mikaelsons were well-known as selfish, temperamental monsters, but no messed with their family.

Elijah turned to his siblings and fixed them with a stern look as they stood together outside the police station. After hearing the initial information from the druid in Oregon, they had tracked their brother to Beacon Hills. They learned that the town had a supernatural pest problem, and that their brother was frequently in the middle of those conflicts. The boy was being raised by his Sheriff father and, by all accounts, the two were very close. There was no mention of any magic; an impressive feat for so powerful a family, and a signal for caution. After much debate, the siblings had decided on a straightforward approach—introduce themselves to the Sheriff in the hopes that he would introduce them to his son. If not, they would take matters into their own hands.

They had spent the time between visiting the old woman and reaching Beacon Hills learning more about their brother's life. The police station was small, but well-maintained, and Elijah prayed that things would go well with this first meeting. They had heard that Sheriff Stilinski was a good man, unlike their own father, and that Stiles, apart from the death of his mother, had lived a good childhood. In many ways, he was still a child, and Elijah would not allow the others to ruin that. As he entered the station door, he unconsciously adjusted his suit and then smiled blandly at the woman at the reception desk.

“We are here to see the Sheriff, please.”

To everyone's surprise, she gave them little more than a casual glance before ushering them though, no compulsion necessary. After all, the Mikaelsons could be very menacing with little effort, and the young person at the desk must be easily intimidated, and therefore not the sort of person who should be working in law enforcement. Meeting the Sheriff, however, would require honesty and forthrightness, if the druid’s claims were to be believed. With that in mind, Elijah was prepared to negotiate with the man for the right to see his son. He only hoped that the man would give them a chance to explain before responding with violence. They were going to be as frank as possible with the man who had raised their brother, even with the messy truths.

Sheriff Stilinski was an attractive man, solidly built with short blond hair and clear blue eyes. Elijah took a moment to wonder if his mother had chosen this family for the man’s appearance as much as his wife’s magic. He felt his siblings tense around him as they, too noticed the physical resemblance between the Sheriff and their father, Mikael.

Appearances aside, that was where the similarities ended. This man watched them carefully, but without malice, and he had an air of authority that put the siblings surprisingly at ease. Introductions were made, but the Sheriff only smiled placidly at their surname and gestured for them to sit. He looked at each of them in turn, as if memorizing their faces, before addressing them together. "I would appreciate it in the future if you would not try to intimidate the student volunteers," he smirked. "We're pretty informal around here. Most of the deputies here have known Stiles since he was in diapers and would do anything for him." His gaze hardened.

"We're not sure what you mean," Rebekah spoke up.

“I know that you are much older and stronger than I am, but I don’t care who you are—if you hurt my son, you will regret it.”

Rebekah almost laughed at the stunned looks on her brother's faces, though she was just as surprised at the threat herself. Not many people threatened the Original family and lived. If this was the man who had raised Stiles, she was excited to find out what kind of man her little brother was.

Niklaus, surprisingly, was the one who recovered first. “Sir, I can promise you with the utmost sincerity that we mean you and your son no harm. We merely wish to get to know him.”

“I see. Do you intend to cause harm to anyone in my town?” Each of the sibling’s gazes snapped in sync toward the Sheriff. It would have been funny had it not been so disconcerting. “I know I’m just a small-town sheriff, but Beacon Hills is not without its protection. To be honest, we expected you before now.”

“Excuse me?”

“Stiles is more powerful than me, but I’m no hedgewitch, either. If you try to use Stiles to get to his magic, you’ll have to answer to me, and the pack, and Kol.”

“What! Kol is here?”

“Kol found Stiles months ago.” Taking in the stunned expressions, the Sheriff added, “He said you resurrected him to help you kill your mother?”

“We were searching for Stiles,” Elijah said slowly. “We had no idea where Kol was staying. You’re telling us he lives here, in this town?” At the Sheriff’s nod, he added, “I hope he hasn’t caused any trouble.”

“He’s been helping Stiles with some issues. Honestly, Esther is low on our list of priorities right now.” William chose to ignore the incredulous looks and scoffing that followed that statement.

“How did Kol find out about Stiles?” Elijah inquired.

The Sheriff paled briefly, and for the first time, the Mikaelsons saw the concerned parent peeking out of the professional visage. “I'm going to lay all the cards on the table here because Stiles wants this to work, and my son is suffering right now, and I'll use whatever resources I have to make it stop." The look the Sheriff gave them told them they'd better count themselves among those 'resources', or else. "A few months ago, a dark druid attempted to boost her powers by committing threefold sacrifices. Stiles and two of his friends temporarily sacrificed themselves to save me and two other parents. It was only supposed to last for a few minutes, but Stiles…they were dead for almost sixteen hours. In that time, somehow Stiles and Kol found each other on the other side and forged a connection."

"What kind of connection?" Finn seemed fascinated by the possibility that Stiles had bonded to someone on the other side, while Rebekah resisted the urge to slap Finn for his insensitivity.

The Sheriff shot Finn an incredulous look. "You look just like Stiles when he's found a new piece of weird information."

"According to the boys, they briefly saw each other during the sacrifice. Kol kept being dragged into Stiles's dreams, even though Kol was still dead at the time. They couldn't communicate with each other until recently, though. They're both tight-lipped about the details of Stiles's nightmares, but I know that Stiles has been happier since Kol came."

"I doubt you were initially pleased," Finn said knowingly.

"Kol had already been here for days before Stiles introduced us, and I reacted poorly. But Kol saved my son's life, so I got over it."

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Finding out that Kol had met their youngest brother while they had both been dead filled Klaus with an odd mix of anger and dread. He hated the thought that they had almost lost their brother before they had even known he existed. Twice! After the conversation in the police station, Klaus and Rebekah immediately wanted to find their missing brothers, regardless of appropriateness of time or location, while Finn and Elijah both counseled that the first meeting should be somewhere like the boy’s house, where he could feel comfortable and safe, assuming that they were invited in.

In this, the Sheriff had given them no information; simply said, “They’ll be together, but probably not alone”, and then sent them to search for themselves. Klaus had no doubt that the man had alerted his son to the family’s arrival; he just hoped the initial meeting—especially if Kol was present—did not end in bloodshed.

The search for Stiles and Kol was much shorter than expected, but still frustrating: the Mikaelsons had passed the diner (not far from the station) multiple times in the two hours they spent searching the town. He wasn't sure if it had been Stiles or his father who had cast the misdirection spell, but Klaus was grudgingly impressed by its effectiveness.

Resigning themselves to meeting their youngest brother in a too public place, Elijah once again glared at his siblings in rebuke at the doors to the diner. "Honestly, brother,” Klaus said, pushing through the doors, “It’s like you expect us to go on a—“

Klaus froze at the sight of his brother—the undead one—lit up with happiness as he spoke with the younger boy next to him. The boy was gesturing animatedly, seemingly engrossed in the conversation. Others were at the table as well: a dark-haired boy with kind eyes; a tall, curly-haired blond boy who watched Kol with suspicion; a fierce-looking brunette who stared at the blond; a petite Japanese girl who was nodding at whatever his brother was saying; and a regal-looking redhead who seemed to be paying no attention to the rest of the table. It was obviously a happy event, and Klaus felt a flare of jealousy as the two continued to chat, oblivious to the rest of the family openly staring at them from the doorway. It was Stiles who noticed them first, and beckoned them to the table with a small wave.

He looked the Originals over with interest before shrugging and motioning for them to sit down. “I’m sorry, but I thought it would be good to just get all of the introductions out of the way first thing.” Stiles knew that it was unfair that he had invited the pack to his first meeting with his siblings, but Kol’s stories had made him a little wary of the others. He hoped this introduction didn’t ruin the first good day he’d had all week.

As the other Originals took seats at the large table Stiles had chosen for this occasion, the pack continued to talk around them. Only when everyone seemed settled, with a small nod from Kol, did Stiles address his siblings. “So, I know that you visited my dad, and I want to thank you for not just sweeping in and assuming that I’d be thrilled to see you, or threatening someone to get me to talk to you. I mean, I am happy to meet you, but you guys don’t have the best of reputations, you know? And, I know I’m not the easiest person in the world to like either. There's no law that says you have to like me, or whatever, but--"

“Stiles, remember to breathe, dude," the dark-haired boy interjected.

Stiles smiled gratefully at his friend before turning back to his siblings. “I’m Stiles, obviously. There’s a lot of stuff that we really shouldn’t talk about in public, so for now let’s just enjoy our meal, okay?”

Introductions went around the table, then a lull while everyone decided on their meals. Stilted, if polite, chatter followed, and Stiles briefly allowed himself to hope that everyone would play nice.

Stiles really should have known better.

It started out well enough. Then Rebekah made a sly comment about teenaged girls being twits, which set Lydia off, and Finn commented on the amount of glaring that Isaac did at Kol. Then Klaus made an inappropriate remark about dogs that annoyed even Scott, and things devolved from there. Suddenly, Stiles was exhausted and overwhelmed, and the only thing on his mind was getting out of the restaurant. He could vaguely hear people around him, but couldn’t focus on what they were saying. He zoned out for a few minutes, trying to will away the pounding in his head, only to jolt back to awareness just as Lydia was glaring at Klaus. Stiles had vague thoughts on intervening, of trying to keep the peace, but he knew Lydia well enough--and had heard enough about Klaus--to know that a battle between these two was inevitable.

“…we’re just a bunch of teenagers, of course. Surely no match for Original vampires,” Lydia was saying, eyes narrowed.

“So glad you agree.” Klaus smirked at the teenagers around the table. “Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that you are important to our brother, you’d hardly be worth noticing at all.”

"That's funny. I was just about to say the same thing about you."

"I would be careful, little girl, about how you speak to me."

Lydia fell quiet, long enough for Stiles to think that she had given up for the moment. Then, "Did you know that verbena was traditionally used to treat insomnia?" the redhead asked.

Klaus frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"There are other practical applications, of course," she continued as if she hadn't heard him, "but it's mostly used as protection against the supernatural."

"It could potentially be applied to arrowheads," Allison interjected.

Kira grinned. "Or swords."

"And I'm quite sure Stiles's mom was connected enough that we could have a dozen witches helping us find ways to make you miserable."

Klaus's face twisted with anger, and everyone had stopped to stare at the pair at this point, blatantly waiting for the explosion. Just as it seemed that Klaus would reach across the table, Lydia added, "if vervain was the only thing that helped Stiles sleep, would you still be there for him? If the very thing that helped him hurt you?"

“If I were you, dear brother, I would stop now,” Kol said softly.

"Look, I talked to Dr. Deaton and he said that you guys are the most powerful vampires ever to live; he also said that you protect your family no matter what. Stiles is your family, so you better protect him, and I don't just mean physically. If you don't, this ragtag pack of teenagers will find a way to make you regret it." The banshee's eyes lit up with the same resolve that Kol had seen that day at the McCall house, and every one of the Mikaelsons noticed it. "That is a promise."

The conversation continued, but Stiles could barely hear it over the pounding in his head. The words mashed together and beat against his brain until Stiles wanted to scream. He looked down, and realized his hands were shaking. He needed to leave. Now, before things got worse. “Are you alright, honey? You look a little pale.” Jo, their waitress, who had known Stiles since he was in diapers, had reappeared with their food and was watching him with concern. "I already called your dad to come get you while everyone else was arguing," she added, and glared around the table for good measure. “Come on,” she said, gently pulling him to his feet. “You can lay down in the break room until the Sheriff gets here.”

Stiles didn’t really want to lay down, especially not in a public place. But he also didn’t want to see the looks on everyone’s faces when they saw how weak he was. He would absolutely use Jo’s mothering as an excuse to avoid the sad faces of his friends, and the likely disgusted gazes of his siblings. Stiles had no doubt that people as powerful as the Originals would only see him as a liability, anyway. He smiled weakly at the woman and let her lead him away, avoiding the concerned gazes of everyone left behind.


	10. Chapter 10

Hours later, Kol met with his siblings to explain the situation and attempt to threaten them into good behavior. "Good" was a relative term, of course, but Kol would consider it a success if he could keep Klaus’s threatening and maiming tendencies to a minimum. “I meant what I said in the diner. Stiles and his pack have been through a lot. I won’t allow you to toy with them.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” his sister pouted.

“Really, Rebekah?” Kol drawled. “You expected me to tell you all about our little brother when your motives for resurrecting me were hardly pure? For all I knew, you wanted to kill him and take his power."

Rebekah huffed and rolled her eyes, but didn't argue the point. Mostly because he wasn't entirely wrong.

“When you brought me back, all you wanted to do was find the witch who defied our mother and use her for your own purposes. Why should I expect anything better from you now? The witch is dead, but her son--our teenage brother--is alive. I can't exactly see any of you going to his lacrosse games or cross-country meets. You and Nik both have a habit of using people for your own gains.” Kol paused. “I know that I’ve been guilty of that as well, but Stiles deserves better. He's done nothing to us. At least one person in our miserable family should have the chance for happiness.”

Kol stared at his siblings, and they stared back. He expected someone to scoff or sneer or argue, but even Niklaus seemed willing to at least try to behave. A thousand years of bad behavior was difficult to overcome, but they agreed to attempt to be civil to Stiles's family and friends. The truly difficult thing would be not drawing attention to themselves; after all, there _was_ a chance that Esther might already know where they were, but there was no sense in making it spectacles of themselves, either. They had enough to worry about at the moment.

It was surprisingly difficult to tell the others about Stiles’s nightmares. Details were scarce, and no one had found any answers about how or why they were happening, or how to stop them. Even though the rest of the Mikaelsons tentatively understood the circumstances behind the two boys’ meetings, the details seemed too personal to Kol to share. Stiles needed all the help he could find, but a selfish part of Kol wanted to play the hero for his brother.

There were some advantages to having the rest of his family in town, though: Finn and Elijah helped with research, and Rebekah had once again decided to enroll in high school so she could keep an eye on Stiles and the pack. Nik’s only purpose thus far seemed to be badgering the police department, but there were quiet bets among the other Mikaelsons about how long it would take the Sheriff to shoot him, and the general agreement that at least Nik was too busy with Stiles's father to cause deadlier trouble.

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Elijah spent a great deal of time with the veterinarian in the coming days. Stiles had told them that the man had been the one to suggest and perform the sacrificial ritual, and Elijah wanted to to learn more about such a man. The vampire wasn't well-versed in dealing with druids, but he planned to use Deaton to find out more about his brother's condition. If the druid could also help him magically, so much the better. For now, though, his questions were straightforward ones.

“The side effects of the sacrifice are troubling. Have you found a way to stop them?” he asked the man one afternoon. Despite Stiles's warning that the druid was remarkably uptight about doling out information, he hoped that his constant presence would eventually loosen the man's tongue. Furthermore, despite her earlier assistance, he would rather not involve Davina any further in family business.

"The effects of the sacrifice are different for each of them," Deaton said evenly, barely looking up from where he was doing his paperwork.

"That does not answer my question."

The druid glanced up and then watched Elijah for a moment before setting his work aside. "The sacrifice was a representation of death; it leaves a mark."

"And this darkness you spoke of, when does it go away?"

"It doesn't."

The Original frowned, and Deaton felt a trickle of unease go down his spine. Despite his sedate appearance, Elijah Mikaelson was not to be trifled with.

"I'm afraid that is unacceptable. You knew exactly who I was when I arrived, and I am quite certain that you can feel the potential within my brother. At best, it was negligent of you to suggest that he perform such a ritual."

"Stiles has always rebuffed my offers of training,” Deaton reminded him. “But under the circumstances, he would have done anything to protect his father. Had I not suggested the sacrifice, he would have found another, perhaps riskier, solution."

"If you would act so cavalier with children's lives, perhaps you are not the one to teach my brother."

"That is up to you," he replied smoothly. "And Stiles, of course."

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Stiles woke to the feeling of fingers brushing through his hair. It reminded him of his mother before she got sick, and Stiles took a moment to enjoy it before opening his eyes. Rebekah gazed back at him.

"You didn't compel my dad to let you in here, do you?"

"No," the girl smiled, "but I might have snuck in while the boys were all posturing downstairs."

The muffled sounds of arguing drifted up the stairs. "Is my dad even home?"

"He got called into work," she replied. Her gaze sharpened. "Are you often left on your own?"

"My dad loves me, and he does what he has to do," Stiles growled at the implication that his father was an absent one. "You have no right to judge."

"And yet he trusts you with Kol?"

Stiles's scowl deepened, and he sat up to get away from his sister's fingers. "I know it's a largely foreign feeling to you, but Kol loves me."

Rebekah scoffed, but didn't stop touching her brother. "Kol hasn't cared about anyone in a long time."

It was Stiles's turn to scoff. "He's lonely. He feels like you guys don't care about him."

"He's just being immature."

"More so than the rest of you? Between the mommy issues, the daddy issues, the abandonment issues, and all of the anger and self-loathing, none of you are exactly paragons of mental health."

"Besides," he continued, "you're going to need to play nice if you guys expect to stick around."

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It was only day four of the Mikaelson siege, and Stiles was already going stir crazy. The pack was avoiding the house under the guise of giving him the chance to know his family better, but Stiles knew that someone, most likely Nik, had "persuaded" the teenagers that his family could best help Stiles, regardless of their limited social and emotional skills. While Stiles had agreed that the vampires were undoubtedly the best defense in case of a physical attack (although werewolves didn't hurt either), Stiles's battle right now was mostly mental, and, in many ways, Stiles was the most mentally sound of the Mikaelsons. Considering that he was slightly unhinged at the moment, that was saying something.

That was not to say that the others hadn't been trying. He was sleeping through the night more, and one of his siblings was always there if he woke during the night. He found out that Elijah was a very good cook and Finn an excellent chess player, that Kol had been a witch before he was a vampire and that what Rebekah wanted more than anything in the world was to fall in love.

He wasn't sure what to think about Niklaus. The hybrid had an almost fanatical need to protect his family, no matter who was hurt in the process. He was like a scared little boy trapped in a lethal body, and Stiles didn't want the pack, his father, or anyone else to pay the price for Nik's insecurities. Stiles wasn't entirely sure that he was immune from his brother's machinations, either.

After ten days of awkwardly aggressive affection from his siblings, Stiles just wanted his friends back.

Every time Stiles brought up the subject, Nik would growl and stalk off like the teenager had insulted him, Finn and Bekah would pout, and Elijah would act aloof and avoid Stiles for a few hours. If he hadn't already been exhausted by the nightmares and hallucinations, his siblings' behavior would have hurt. For Stiles, who was already struggling, it made everything a little harder to bear. Thankfully, Kol was there to distract him from the rest of their siblings' ridiculousness, or who knows what he would have done.

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Things finally came to a head when Niklaus tried to keep Stiles sequestered for the third weekend in a row. The pack had started to joke that they were forgetting what he looked like, considering they only saw him for a few minutes at school. Stiles understood his siblings' reservations, especially with Esther unaccounted for, but he wasn't going to let whatever was happening to him stop him from living his life, and they needed to accept that fact.

Which was how everyone ended up crammed into the Stilinski living room on a Thursday night, playing Trivial Pursuit. Most people would assume that any trivia game between teenagers and thousand-year-old vampires would have been intellectual slaughter. Of course, Stiles and Lydia weren't average teenagers.

"Let's make a wager," she said at the beginning of the night, eyeing the Mikaelsons speculatively. "We are going to play one game. The teams will be the pack versus your family. Whichever team wins will plan the weekend's activities. Kol, you'll be with them to make the teams even." She motioned to the other vampires.

"What about Stiles?" Niklaus asked.

"He's been in our family longer than yours," she answered archly.

What started as a largely friendly game between the two groups rapidly devolved into a heated battle of wits between Lydia and Rebekah. Both teams answered the general knowledge questions easily enough, but Rebekah was frustrated by her inability to answer pop culture questions, especially considering her extensive experience in pretending to be a teenager.

Surprisingly, it was Scott who ultimately won the game for the pack by knowing the scientific name for a rabbit's tail--thanks to his job at the clinic--and so the pack was in charge of choosing the next group activity.

The pack ultimately decided that because Scott had won the game for them that he should choose Saturday's activity. Rather than choosing video games and pizza as expected, however, he surprised everyone with his suggestion that they all take a picnic lunch out to the Preserve and play hide-and-seek. Only Stiles understood the reasoning behind his friend's choice, and the grin that he shot Scott made all of the hassle Scott received from the others worth it.

Scott decided that he wanted the picnic to be similar to the ones that Stiles had had with his mom, but, not wanting to upset the Sheriff, Scott asked his mom to help prepare the food for the next day. Rather than try to replicate everything, his mom suggested that he choose one thing--like dessert--and make the rest of the meal for the group as a whole, rather than focusing everything on Stiles. That way, Stiles wouldn't be pressured into thinking that the meal was an attempt to make him choose sides and could simply enjoy the gift.

Scott spent the rest of the day baking apple dumplings with his mother, who had thankfully made them with Stiles's mother when the boys were little. He spent most of Friday ignoring irritated texts from Isaac and Lydia about traipsing through the woods and exasperated ones from Kol about the difficulty of convincing Elijah to wear something other than a suit; he didn't answer any of them.

Kira offered to make sandwiches, or pack coolers, or anything, but the alpha declined, and by the next morning, Scott was tired but pleased with his work. The alpha took a minute to text everyone the reminder to meet at the Hale house by 11:00 before yelling at Isaac to start getting ready, ignoring the griping from the blonde about being woken up two hours early.

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"It's okay, dude," Stiles said later that day, after Scott had flashed his eyes for the fourth time at someone for complaining about the walk. "It's a good day. I'm surprised we got most of them out here in the first place."

Scott agreed, but still.

By the time they made it to the spot, both boys were lost in memories about the picnics that had happened here, that both jumped when Finn came up behind them.

"This is a lovely spot," he said, taking in the scenery. "How did you find it?"

"My mom used to bring me here sometimes. It was nice," Stiles said absently, taking in the view as well.

Allison and Kira took it upon themselves to set things up for lunch, and soon enough, everyone was sitting on blankets, chatting and eating. The Mikaelsons must have heard Stiles's comment about his mother, because they were all at least pretending to have a good time. By the time they got to dessert, Stiles looked better than he had in a while, and if both boys teared up as Scott got out the dumplings, no one was crass enough to mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Chapters 11-12 and a Peter/Stiles fic in "listening for echoes".
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Having a thousand-year-old vampire pretending to be a junior in high school was interesting, to say the least. Scott and Stiles thought that it would have been more awkward, but Rebekah easily slotted herself into the high school elite. Her obvious affection for the duo was noted, and Stiles wouldn't have minded the popularity bump if he hadn't been forced to listen to his classmates talk about the disgusting things they wanted to do with his sister. He thanked his lucky stars that he didn't have Scott's nose.

Rebekah wasn't a scholar, and didn't pretend to be, but every once in awhile she would bring up random bits of thinly-disguised personal information related to something they were studying in class that would unerringly send the teacher off on some tangent or tirade (depending on the teacher) that would last most of the hour. Not only was Rebekah in every one of his classes with the exception of gym, and he _was_ still aware enough to notice that Rebekah's contributions to class coincided with the times he felt himself drifting off. Stiles probably would have appreciated her sneakiness more if he'd had the energy.

The rest of the pack was annoyingly attentive as well. When Stiles protested, Scott would flash his eyes and say that was his duty as best friend and alpha to watch out for him. Lydia would carry on as if she hadn't heard him. Allison and Isaac double-teamed him into accepting treats, or class notes, or in one extremely embarrassing case, a shirt, because he hadn't realized that he'd spilled his lunch all over his. Kira just gave him a sweet, semi-sad smile and asked him if he preferred cookies or brownies.

(She brought him both.)

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Finn got a job at the school as a freshman history teacher, probably owing to the relative life-expectancy of teachers in the area. His new position irritated Rebekah to no end, despite the fact that the freshmen and juniors had classes in different parts of the building, so that the two never crossed paths during school hours. Stiles never saw Finn either, for the same reason, so he suspected that the eldest Mikaelson simply wanted to stay busy. After all, it wasn't like the man could simply abandon his classes if Stiles was in danger in another part of the building.

(Considering the craziness that went on at their school, though, maybe he could.)

He appreciated the support, but honestly, Stiles was spending most of his time convincing himself that things were getting better, and it wasn't even entirely a lie. Everyone knew that he was still having nightmares, but things weren't as bad as they had been when he first met Kol. It was progress, right?

Klaus kept loitering around the Sheriff's department, even after the Sheriff threatened to make him file backlogged paperwork, and, once the deputies got used to having him around, the man considered by many to be the bane of the supernatural world was surprised to find that everyone treated him much the same as Stiles--like a part of the family. No one expected him to do anything in particular, but the woman in reception always greeted him when he walked in, and he started eating the extra sandwich that Deputy Parrish brought every day for lunch, even if he wasn't hungry. And if he helped monitor the Sheriff's diet, it was only because he didn't have anything else to do at the moment.

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Stiles sleeps. He doesn't really want to, but sleeping is one of those things that everyone has to do eventually or they go crazy, and Stiles doesn't need any more insanity at the moment.

His dreams are full of smoke and the sound of crying, and Stiles worries that somehow he's dreaming about the Hale fire except that when he looks, he's standing by a lake. There's a woman staring at him from a few feet away, wearing a simple dress and no shoes. Her eyes are bright. "Won't you let me in?" she asks.

Stiles wakes with tears on his face and a sob in his throat. No one has charged into his room, yet, so he is hopeful that everyone has slept through this particular nightmare. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to force himself to relax before anyone notices his distress.

He can picture the woman in his head: soft and delicate, like a baby bird; but with dead eyes, and silvery hair billowing in the nonexistent wind. His heart lurches in his chest. He knows that he definitely doesn't want to let her in.

The bed dips, and it takes Stiles a moment to realize that Klaus is in his room, and on his bed. The hybrid wraps his arms around him, and Stiles realizes that they're slowly rocking. Stiles frowns and tries to reconcile his brother’s general attitude with his current predicament; despite evidence to the contrary (including his ten fingers), his brain can't quite accept the situation.

“You need to rest, little brother. You’re safe here.” Klaus says softly. He doesn't stop rocking.

“You should probably go growl at some kittens or something—we don’t want to give people the wrong idea about you,” Stiles mumbles, but he doesn’t try to make the other man leave. Klaus only holds him tighter (a bit too tightly, really, but Stiles isn't going to tell his brother that) as he slips back into sleep.

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Kol could no longer dream with Stiles, so he had no idea exactly what his brother was seeing in his sleep. Frankly, it made him want to maim someone even more than usual. Unfortunately, Stiles frowned upon that sort of thing except in extreme circumstances. The best he could do at the moment was find Stiles a teacher to help him with magic. For that, he needed Elijah, who was a much better at negotiating those kind of contracts than Kol would ever be.

Elijah persuaded Marin Morrell--who had stopped working at the school soon after the alpha pack incident--to work with Stiles to further develop his magical abilities. Stiles was still wary of her, but the others promised him that a) Stiles would never be left alone with her; and b) that Klaus would personally rip her heart out of her chest if she tried to harm Stiles or his father.

Stiles was both disturbed and touched by the offer.

He accepted, of course.

<> <>

Training was not going well. On one hand, Stiles had a lot of power. On the other, that power was a lot like a temperamental five-year-old that didn't like the word "no". So far, Stiles had inadvertently killed some chrysanthemums, curdled milk, and blown out the tires of Ms. Morrell's car.

After the tires, the woman had practically ripped the grimoire out of his hands and stormed into his kitchen, grabbing an empty glass from the cabinet. Ms. Morrell placed the cup in front of him with a thump. "I want you to focus on this," she said.

"Uh--"

"This is a meditation exercise," she explained. "I want you to clear your mind. Consider that the cup is both there and not there. It appears to have shape and purpose, but it is also empty, as is the space around it."

"Huh?" Stiles heard Kol snicker from the corner. He ignored him.

"Focus on the glass," she replied curtly, as if thinking abstract thoughts about some empty, nonexistent cup was easy.

Sighing audibly, he turned back to stare at the glass. He tried to think about space and emptiness...but nothing really was empty, was it? Air was everywhere, and air carried stuff like dust and pollen--

 _Thunk_.

Inside the glass was a purple crystal. Stiles blinked in surprise. The look on Ms. Morrell's face said that this was clearly not supposed to happen, though, and she didn't like it.

Stiles peered cautiously into the cup. "What is it?"

"It looks like amethyst," Kol answered from behind him. After a moment, he picked up the stone up and placed it in Stiles's hand. "It's said to strengthen your intuition and protect against negative forces. It could be helpful against Mother."

Stiles put the stone in his pocket with a shrug and turned back to Morrell. "What now?"

“I think that's enough for today,” she said, frowning at him as she gathered her things and walked out the door.

<> <>

“I have no idea what’s happening here,” Stiles breathed, voice quiet. His eyes widened as he watched the field behind the clinic continue to burn. Well, sort of.

It certainly looked like the field was on fire: there was light, and heat, and smoke; but nothing was actually burning. Stiles knew that for certain because he had actually thrust his hand into the flames experimentally a few minutes ago, and the most his fingers had done was tingle, though he _was_ grateful that none of the Hales were in town to see this. He'd hate to be responsible for any extra therapy they might need.

Morrell looked like she was sucking on a lemon.

“It looks kind of cool, though," he added. Scott stared at him in disbelief. “I'm sure it will go back to normal sooner or later,” he finished as an afterthought while someone—probably Rebekah—snorted in the background.

It took four hours for the field to go back to normal, with a little something left behind.

In the center of the field, in a plain wooden box, was a piece of malachite.

<> <>

There were two more stones that came to Stiles--minty green chlorite and deep black onyx--while practicing with Ms. Morrell. Elijah helped him find the first hidden in the back of his closet in a box of his mother's things. He and Klaus found the second after yet another of Morrell's focus techniques went awry.

What little research he had done on the stones suggested that they represented good things like transformation, healing, and inner strength, but his mentor's reaction every time he found one made him nervous. Kol and Rebekah both thought that the druid was jealous, and Stiles finally just decided to believe them.

<> <>

Kol watched as his little brother carefully wrapped his stones in cloth and put them in the box. "I hope it's safe to put these together," he mused, eyeing them them like they might explode. "I'll have to research. If something horrible happens to me you'll take care of my dad, right?"

Kol just rolled his eyes and cuffed his brother on the back of the head.

They had all noticed in their time in California that Stiles seemed rather blasé about jumping into dangerous situations, and although Kol could probably say he had done the same in his early centuries as a vampire, in his little brother, Kol found the trait exasperating. Stiles, though, being as pigheaded as all the rest of them, was unlikely to change, and after the third instance of Stiles avoiding the day's escort, Elijah had suggested that he change tactics.

Kol treated his brother to a greasy dinner and a movie and _then_ brought up Stiles's lack of self-preservation.

"You're so busy worrying about everyone else that you forget to think about yourself,” Kol mentioned over dessert.

Stiles looked genuinely confused by the notion. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The sad thing is, I believe you. It doesn't matter, though, because we're going to take care of you for awhile."

Stiles frowned. "Great?"

"Think of it this way: there are plenty of people who would love the thought of one of us getting hurt, especially Klaus. Really, you're performing a community service." Kol flashed a sharp smile.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Stiles added dryly.

<> <>

Stiles knew that something was up when Lydia gave him her dessert at lunch--advanced warning, perhaps. He had to wait until last period, though--when they were the only two pack members in the class--to find out her plan. It only seemed fitting that they were mixing dangerous chemicals while she explained.

"I think I've found a way to summon whatever is bothering you," she said simply.

"Okay. So why wait to mention it until we're alone?” he asked, handing her a beaker.

"It's dangerous," she paused, "and no one is going to like it, but you can't go on like this."

She was right, of course. Stiles couldn't expect his siblings to stick around forever, and it wasn't really fair to use them or the pack to protect him without any of them really understanding what was happening.

"What's the plan?"

<> <>

Lydia and Stiles met out in front of the old Hale house before heading out into the preserve. Thankfully, it was a Friday night, so his siblings wouldn't expect him for a few hours.

Lydia led them to an open space that she had obviously researched beforehand, and drew a large circle on the ground. "You have the stones with you?"

Seeing Stiles nod, she continued, "You're going to walk the circle. You--"

"Wait!" Stiles whipped around in surprise as Scott stepped into the circle with his friend.

"I have to try this, Scott. I can't keep waiting around for something to happen. If this can help, I'm going to do it. Please."

"I'll never forgive you if something goes wrong," Scott said solemnly, but didn't suggest that they find Morrell, or his dad, or the Mikaelsons.

"I've got a big, strong werewolf protector," he gushed, "what more do I need?"

Scott shoved him playfully, but didn't leave the circle.

"He'll be fine; it's not that kind of ritual," Lydia soothed, though whether she was talking to Scott or Stiles was debatable. "Stiles, stand with one foot on either side of the circle. Every time you step with your right foot, you're going to inhale. When you step left, you exhale. I want you to focus on your movement, and how it feels. Just keep walking slowly."

Stiles started walking. He wasn't sure how this was supposed to help anything, but he trusted Lydia not to lure him to the forest to kill him. Even if she had, Scott would save him anyway.

 _Right foot, inhale. Left foot, exhale_. The stones felt heavy in his pocket, so he took one out.

At least if this didn't do anything, he would have gotten some exercise. Right foot, inhale. Left foot, exhale. Another stone.

More steps. More breathing. Another stone.

More breathing. More steps--

"Stiles!"

Stiles grimaced at the boom as the last stone hit the ground. There was no way his siblings (or anyone, really) could miss that. He could worry about that later, though; he was more concerned about what was inside the circle with Scott.

It was the same woman as before, though less corporeal and more fuzzy around the edges, like she was made out of smoke. Stiles realized that she could see through her.

The moment their eyes met, Stiles froze. He could hear Scott and Lydia yelling at him, but he couldn't look away as she glided toward him.

"Just let me in," he hears.

His fingers touch something smooth, but he can't look down.

She reaches for his hand.

He doesn't want to take it. He thinks about his dad, and Scott, and the pack, and everyone at the station, and Kol and the others.

Stiles's closed hand pulses with light. He opens it.

Something screams.

<> <>

There was stunned silence for a moment. 

“Huh, that was stronger than I expected.” Stiles mumbled, looking at the stones surrounding him, and the new one in his hand. 

“Are you kidding?" Scott shouted as he pulled Stiles up off the ground. "I don't want to be around when you dad finds out about this. Or Klaus."

Scott did have a point. He carefully put the new red stone in his pocket. "It was still pretty cool, though."


	12. Chapter 12

The good news was that Scott was not around when either the Sheriff or Niklaus found out what went on in the woods. The bad news was that he didn't need to be, because everyone in the entire county had felt the initial boom of magic as it erupted from the circle. There were a few broken windows and triggered car alarms, but most people assumed they had felt a small earthquake and carried on with their lives.

Niklaus, however, knew better. The Mikaelsons had been around long enough to recognize a magical event when they felt it, and the hybrid barely glanced at Elijah before they were both out the door. Fifteen minutes later found the vampires reaching Scott, Stiles, and Lydia, who were sitting on a fallen log and sipping sodas. They were speaking quietly, heads together, and startled when Niklaus cleared his throat.

"We know what's been bothering Stiles," Lydia told them. "We just don't know why."

The vampires looked at the circle, barely visible on the ground. "You did some sort of ritual?" Klaus mock pouted. "You shouldn't get into such mischief without us, little brother."

"It's a brollachan."

Klaus frowned. "Those don't exist except in fairy stories."

Lydia eyed the hybrid like she wanted to call him an idiot, but didn't want to deal with the consequences afterward. "If you have a better explanation--" 

"Look, I only want to do this once," Stiles interrupted. "Let's get everybody to my house, and you can do all the yelling you want."

<> <>

"It's a brollachan," Lydia announced to the assembled group, while Scott nodded supportively. "It's the only thing that fits."

"How do we kill it, or get rid of it, or whatever?" Isaac asked. Allison elbowed him.

"Even if such a creature exists," Finn argued, "according to the lore, it doesn't cause nightmares."

"Is all the lore written about vampires true?" Lydia countered.

Finn frowned, but shook his head. "According to legend, brollachan are generally found near water. They can be summoned magically and they take the form of whoever they possess."

"Stiles hasn't been near a body of water and he's not possessed," Rebekah added.

"I dream of water a lot, though," Stiles mentioned quietly, "and she keeps reaching out to me."

"The spirit?" Kol asked.

"I don't think she's meant to be here."

"We'll just send her home then, shall we?"

<> <>

"Stiles, are you okay? Stiles?"

Stiles groaned and tried to blink away the spots in his vision. Lydia's face swam into view, Finn staring at him over her shoulder. "What happened?"

"You tell us," Lydia asked, helping him up off the nemeton.

Wait. "How did we get here? Where's Morrell?" Stiles stuttered, confused.

"Don't worry about her," Finn ground out, putting his hands on Stiles's shoulders.

Stiles tried to remember exactly what had happened, but the details were fuzzy. Morrell had asked him to meditate again, and then there was water...and...

And now, Finn was rather aggressively patting him down. "She knew about the brollachan, and she foolishly asked you to endanger yourself--"

Stiles remembered that much. "But how did we get _here_?" he asked, eyeing the nemeton with trepidation.

"You had your hands in the bowl. Then, you got really pale, and you started jerking like something had grabbed you," Lydia explained. "There was another boom..."

"And then we were here," Finn finished. "Let's go home and rest. We'll solve the mystery another time."

Neither teenager had the strength to object when the vampire herded them out of the forest.

<> <>

Kol had been hovering for hours, and it was driving Stiles crazy. Ever since the morning's lesson with Ms. Morrell, his brother had been clinging to him like he could disappear at any moment. Scott had given him the sad-concerned face, and Lydia had hugged him hard enough to cut off his oxygen (then punched him while he gasped for air). Even Finn, who was much too levelheaded to panic, had searched him for injuries, which was unnecessary because Stiles had barely even passed out! It didn't help that his dad had threatened each of his siblings with grievous bodily harm if Stiles should get permanently injured during magic training (although it had been hilarious that they had believed him). Even Klaus was treating him like a porcelain doll at the moment.

So maybe he was going to bed a little earlier than usual to get away from the mothering. It wasn't like he didn't deserve the extra rest.

“I’m fine. I’m just a little tired," he said, trying to reassure his brother. He sat on the bed, exchanging his clothes for some comfortable sleep pants. His siblings had been orbiting him all day, and normally it would have made him angry, but it _had_ been kind of nice to be fussed over by his new family. “Maybe I’ll get some decent sleep this time,” he said wearily, allowing Kol to tuck him into bed with minimal teasing.

Unfortunately, despite feeling completely drained, Stiles couldn’t fall asleep. Ms. Morell had made him study for hours after the "incident"; partially, Stiles suspected, as revenge for his accidental pyrotechnics. Rather than help settle his magic, however, the enforced rest only seemed to agitate it more, so that he felt trapped between exhaustion and hypervigilance. He tried meditation, exercise, and even warm milk, but nothing helped him get to sleep.

Some small noise would jar him awake every time he started to nod off, or the blankets would be too tight, or he was too hot. After a couple of hours of tossing, he pulled himself off his bed and trudged into the bathroom to splash water on his face. Stiles had joked about looking like an extra in a zombie movie a while back, but, staring at his reflection now he wondered if he had been too generous in his estimation.

He briefly considered asking Kol to lay down with him, at least until he relaxed, but he didn't want to worry the vampire more, so he laid in his bed for far too long before finally drifting off.

<> <>

There was a small rowboat sitting on the bank of the lake. The paint was faded and chipped, but the boat rocked gently against the waves. Stiles stepped into it and pushed away from the shore. He laid back and let the boat drift for a while, lulled by the movement.

After such a peaceful rest, Stiles reluctantly started to row toward the shore. He rowed and rowed in the calm, still water until his arms were tired, but he couldn't find the shore. He could see the trees in the distance, but they were so far away, maybe farther than before, and Stiles was so tired of rowing.

The wind picked up again and the boat moved slowly along the water. Stiles thought about how nice it was before, just to drift.

He never saw the arm that pulled him under.

<> <>

Kol was worried about Stiles. He had drifted off yesterday with a headache and a mild fever; nearly twenty hours later, he still hadn’t woken. Kol would've liked to think that having the protection of all of his siblings had finally made Stiles feel safe enough to be able to catch up on sleep, but a prickle of unease went down Kol’s back. His brother’s hand was clammy in his own, and Kol could tell, simply by brushing Stiles’s hair from his face, that his temperature had gone up significantly. Stiles didn't necessarily need medical attention, he thought, but what if he was wrong? Was this a normal human illness or something magical? He didn't want to call Dr. Deaton--Elijah had deemed the man untrustworthy--but the vet was the man the pack usually went to for such things. He could always kill the man later, if necessary.

He wrapped Stiles in a blanket, frowning a bit as he watched the boy grow even more pale, and sped him to the clinic.

<> <>

Klaus brushed his hand across his youngest brother’s forehead. He could feel the intense heat rolling off of Stiles, and he only got more anxious as his condition did not improve.

He hated feeling helpless. No matter how much Klaus wanted someone to pay for making his brother suffer, there’s nothing he can do to fix such things. Sadly, going on a murderous rampage would only cause Stiles and his father grief, no matter how satisfying it might feel in the moment.

“It’s getting worse.” Klaus glared at the doctor like the situation was the man’s fault.

“His body is acting like it’s fighting off an infection,” Deaton said simply.

“With the infection in this case being the brollachan?” Finn asked.

Deaton nodded. “His body shouldn’t be reacting this way to an attempted possession, especially not by this creature. Hinestly, it's both reassuring and troubling at the same time.”

“Care to be more specific?” Klaus growled.

“That Stiles has been able to fight off the brollachan is remarkable, but considering the strain it has put on his body, it may have been better for him to have given in.”

Surprisingly, it was Finn who raced over to slam the doctor into the wall. “How dare you suggest he should have let that monster take him!” he snarled. “Even when I hated what I was I refused to simply lay down and die!”

Elijah, ever the peacekeeper, stepped in, even if he would really rather have disposed of the man himself. “We appreciate your candor, Doctor,” Elijah said evenly, “but perhaps it would be best if you left us alone for a while.”

Deaton recognized a reprieve when he saw one, and excused himself as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, after Deaton left, the tension in the room only seemed to increase, as none of the Mikaelsons were well-versed in the art of being patient, and currently had no place to direct their frustrations, either.

“Maybe one of us should bite him,” Rebekah said softly, not looking away from Stiles.

“He turned down the opportunity to be a werewolf; I doubt he’d want to be turned into a vampire, either,” Scott spoke from the doorway. It spoke to how distracted the Original family was that they hadn’t heard him approach. He moved to sit by the bed and took his friend’s hand. “Lydia hasn’t felt the urge to scream, so I think Stiles is safe for now."

There was nothing left to do but wait.

<> <>

Three days later, Stiles regains consciousness, if only for a few moments. His eyes are glazed and unfocused, but he can feel a hand rub across his back, and he leans heavily into the warm body and lets himself drift away again.

<> <>

"There has to be something we can do," Klaus complained on the fifth day. Stiles had started seizing the night before, his body jerking and spasming for nearly ten minutes before he collapsed all at once like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Kira had needed to drive a distraught Scott home afterwards. The same thing had happened again this morning.

If Klaus had to watch Stiles have one more episode, he might have to fight off Scott for the chance to bite Stiles first. The alpha was having as much trouble seeing his pseudo-brother in this state as the rest of his family, and everyone's patience was running thin. "His body is fighting it, that much is obvious." 

"Well," Deaton conceded, "cases of brollachan possession tend to last only days before the host sickens and the creature must find a new host. The fight is likely exhausting them both."

The situation was still worrisome. "Why would a Scottish fairy creature be attempting to possess a teenager from California?"

"You said that Stiles thought that something sent her here?” Deaton questioned. "Did you know that a brollachan can be summoned through magic?"

"What's your point?"

"Given the right circumstances, things that can be summoned can also be controlled." He fixed the siblings with a steady gaze. "Who do you know that might want to control Stiles?"

_She couldn’t take human form, so she possessed a young witch with the intention of using the woman and her husband to conceive a child that Esther could mould and use against the rest of her family._

The answer was obvious. “Our mother.”

<> <>

Sheriff Stilinski took the news better than expected.

He was obviously angered by the knowledge that Esther had summoned a creature to control his son, but he immediately put it aside to focus on the situation at hand. "How do we protect Stiles?"

"It doesn't make sense," Rebekah reasoned. "Mother already has a body."

"But if she could get one that was younger and more powerful, and get revenge..." Klaus added.

"How do we stop her?"

"I think the nemeton will help," Finn interjected. He shrugged off the others' incredulous looks. "When we were transported there...I didn't sense any malevolence."

Will scowled. "That tree is what got my son into this situation in the first place."

"No,” Finn disagreed. “The nemeton itself is only a container, if you will, a reflection of the magic around it."

"It brought Stiles and I together," Kol interrupted. "I think."

"Well," Stiles's father sighed, "whatever plan we come up with, the pack will want to be involved. Stiles included."

"They're children," Rebekah argued.

“Be that as it may, I think Stiles has to be involved. I don't like it, but Stiles, Scott, and Lydia in particular will only find ways around us if they aren't included."

"We'll talk when everyone can participate," Elijah said. "I believe that Miss Argent is sitting with him now. I'll go send her home for supper." He moved to intercept the Sheriff as the man moved to join him. "Get some rest. I'll watch over him until you wake up."

"Come on," Rebekah said mildly, tucking her arm into Will's and guiding him upstairs, "I promise to wake you soon. We don't need the both of you ill."

<> <>

Stiles came awake sometime later to the sight of Elijah watching him with tired eyes. "Hi."

"How are you feeling?"

"Tell me what happened," the boy demanded instead.

Elijah hid his upturned lips. Definitely a Mikaelson, then. "Brollachan can't live in other creatures for very long--they essentially hollow out the host. We believe that Mother summoned it to kill you, so that she could possess you thereafter."

"That sounds really complicated."

This time, Elijah didn't bother to hide his smile. "Our family does love its machinations," he agreed. Elijah helped the other boy sit up and sip some water. "We'll need to prepare for Mother's arrival soon."

Stiles grimaced in distaste. "Do we have to? Personally, I'm a fan of ignoring a problem until it just goes away." 

The Original barked out a laugh. "You must get that from your father's side of the family, then."

<> <>

Niklaus Mikaelson had been called many things in his life—temperamental, maniacal, psychotic—to name a few, and he was proud of the reputation he had earned protecting his family. He was used to fighting anything and everything to get what he wanted, but right now he felt more helpless than he had his entire life. It was worrying, really, how much he had grown to care for his youngest brother in such a short time.

Now, he was sitting in the Sheriff’s living room, pretending to be interested in television, while he waited for news.

The Sheriff got up to pour a cup of coffee, bringing one for Klaus as well. “I want to thank you for helping Stiles. I know that technically you’re brothers, but you don’t have much in common.”

“I’m glad to help.”

“I apologize for my reaction before; I should have let you make your case.”

The two men lapsed into easy since for some time before Stiles’s father spoke again. “Stiles has always been older than he should have to be,” the man said suddenly, not looking away from the television. “Even when his mom was still alive, he was taught magic and responsibility.” He turned to Klaus with wide eyes, and Klaus almost had to turn away from the plea in them. “When all this drama started, I was torn between being proud of my son for protecting his friends, and worried sick because he would stand between any of them and danger, even though they’re physically so much stronger than him. God knows I hate your mother for what she did to us, but I can see that Stiles cares about you, and I’m glad to know that if necessary, you would protect Stiles the same way he protects the rest of the pack.”

Niklaus didn’t know what to say to the kind of trust that the man had just placed in him. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking right at Klaus, hand firmly on the vampire’s shoulder. The hybrid froze for a moment before melting into the touch. John nodded knowingly. "You're family now; Stiles and I take that seriously."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go! I know it might seem mean for me to make you wait another week for the final chapter, but it's almost as long as 11 & 12 together, so that's nice, right?
> 
> Next week: the final chapter of "in these pathless woods" and a standalone Vampire Diaries/Originals fic. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

Stiles opened his eyes to find that he was definitely not in his bed. The nemeton stood before him, and he suppressed a shiver at the thought that a mostly dead tree could compel him to walk through the forest in the middle of the night in his sleep. He looked around briefly in the hopes that he might find a clue as to what was going on, but aside from a judgmental-looking owl, there was nothing else moving in the vicinity.

Sighing heavily, he resigned himself to walking back to his house in the dark. He should probably be more concerned about his apparent sleepwalking, but he wanted to take advantage of the fact that he was finally getting a decent amount of sleep for the first time in months.

Or he had been, anyway. He still felt rested; he could figure out why he had walked to the nemeton in his sleep later.

The owl hooted at him, and Stiles suppressed the urge to throw a rock at it. "What?"

 _Woo, woo_.

He took step forward, stopped himself, and then turned around to leave. He had school in the morning.

_Woo, woo._

He turned back around. The owl was sitting on the nemeton. "What do you want me to do?"

 _Woo, woo_.

"If this kills me, I'm coming back to haunt you," he told the bird, and reached for the tree.

He was expecting lightning to strike him or something else equally painful to happen. Instead, touching the nemeton felt good, like a soft blanket and hot chocolate on a cold winter night. It reminded him of his mom's smile and his dad's hugs, like Scott's arm around his shoulders or Rebekah's fingers in his hair. He sighed in contentment, and drifted quickly off to sleep.

<> <>

Stiles came awake with a groan. He was back in his bed, somehow, but there was something remarkably stick-like poking him in the back and he could feel leaves in his hair. Surprisingly, his reflection in the bathroom mirror wasn't that bad, if one didn't count the dirt smudging the side of his cheek and pressed into his shirt. His feet were scratched from walking around barefoot, but it wasn't painful. He felt fine.

Actually, he felt better than he had since he started chasing after werewolves. Whatever the nemeton had done to him, it felt like a good thing. The problem now was that he had to tell the others what had happened. Deciding that the news would undoubtedly be better received if Stiles didn't look like he had wandered through the woods, he hopped into the shower to get rid of the evidence of his excursion before breakfast.

After a quick rinse off, Stiles headed downstairs just in time to see his dad and Rebekah swap plates.

"I saw that."

His dad pretended to pout while Rebekah covered her face to hide her grin. "I can eat what I want, Stiles.” John complained.

The teenager glared at his dad as he poured himself some juice. "Just because I haven't trained them yet doesn't mean you can use your fatherly wiles against them."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I approve, of course, because you're an awesome dad, but that doesn't mean you can cheat on the diet." He turned pleading eyes to his siblings. "He has high blood pressure, and as honorary Stilinskis you have to help me help him." Stiles bit back his snicker as five heads pinned the Sheriff with assessing gazes. Before he could start gloating, though, Elijah froze and slowly turned toward Stiles.

"Why do you smell like blood?"

"What? No, I don't." He had showered and everything! Like a switch had been flipped, everyone was staring at Stiles, now, the Sheriff's diet forgotten.

“Stiles, are you okay?” his dad asked while Kol patted him down.

"Yeah. I think...I'm pretty sure that I slept at the nemeton last night. I was sleepwalking, and when I woke up I was at the tree and there was this judgmental owl and then I went back to sleep and then I woke up in my bed but I was dirty and I have no idea how long I was there. The good news is, I think the nemeton was trying to help me because I feel better than I have in months." That said, he grabbed a piece of bacon and shoved it into his mouth to stop himself from talking.

"You spent the night at the nemeton?"

Stiles grimaced. "Literally on it, I think."

"How did you manage to get out without anyone noticing?" Niklaus sounded extremely insulted by that fact.

"I don't know. Magic?"

"Be that as it may,” Finn offered, “even if Mother wasn't involved, we'll need a plan as soon as possible."

"I'll start calling everyone." Stiles stole another piece of bacon ran to his bedroom before his siblings could corner him.

Ninety minutes later, the entire pack was sitting in the Stilinski living room.

<> <>

"I'm just nervous," he confessed, fingers tapping thoughtlessly against the counter. After the meeting and the talk with Scott and Lydia, Stiles was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Thankfully, nothing really seemed to phase Elijah, so he was much easier to talk to than Kol, Nik, or even Rebekah. "I've got powers that never work the way they're supposed to and I'm supposed to fight the most powerful witch of all time. It's a lot of pressure."

Elijah stepped forward and put his hands on Stiles's shoulders, mentally chiding himself. It was easy to forget that, for all of his maturity, their brother was just a teenager, younger even than the doppelgänger and the Bennett witch. "If there is one thing you need to remember, it is that our mother thinks she will win because she has left you alone.” He made sure that Stiles was watching him before adding, “You are not alone."

"Oh, did I miss the touching family moment," Kol asked cheekily as he walked into the room. "Are we going to hug? I think I want to hug."

Stiles smothered a laugh at the sight of Elijah rolling his eyes before they both turned to the other vampire. "Congratulations, you're a moment ruiner. Elijah's my favorite, now."

Kol pouted, and Stiles hugged him anyway.

<> <>

“We will do whatever needs to be done in order to defeat Esther and protect Stiles,” Nik announced imperiously to pack, like they wouldn't also do everything they could to protect him. Lydia looked particularly insulted by the implication.

“I suppose you already have a plan,” she asked testily.

“At least one of us will stay with Stiles at all times.”

Lydia arched a brow and leveled him with a look. “And what if whichever one of you is with him is feeling human when Esther finds him?”

Niklaus seemed to be stuck between a glare and a frown as he stared at Lydia. “You’re too young and inexperienced to face her.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, “but we don't have to fight your mother to help protect Stiles. At the very least, I'll be helping you prepare the spell against her. Scott?”

Scott turned to Stiles. “What do you need me to do?”

“Video games and pizza?” he said honestly. “I could really use a distraction right now.”

“Let's do it.”

<> <>

Naturally, Mikaelsons moved upstairs and continued to plan while the teenagers kept each other occupied.

“Mother cannot be allowed near Stiles. She nearly succeeded in killing him the last time they met. If we are not at full strength, I fear what she can accomplish,” Finn said.

“His magic is strong, but I'm not certain that he is skilled enough to defeat her,” Elijah added.

“If we can find a proper spell,” Kol interjected, “I have quite a collection of spelled objects that may be of use.”

“Where might you have gotten those, dear brother?”

The youngest vampire smirked, then shrugged. “I've known quite a few witches over the years. And, it's always good to have extra protection against...everything.”

“Why must everything begin and end with our mother?” Rebekah asked plaintively, shifting the conversation away from Kol. The siblings’ past issues were not the focus here. “Can we have nothing good in our lives?”

"What is it you want, Rebekah?" Niklaus asked plainly. He had assumed that for once all of them were in agreement on a plan of action.

"The same things I've wanted since I was a child. I want a home. I want a family. I want someone to love me, and I want to live."

"Well, you're in luck," Scott said from behind them. If he was surprised by the way the vampires were hiding in Stiles's room, he didn't show it. "Stiles and his dad are pretty much experts at all of that stuff,” he added.

“Excuse me?” Rebekah asked.

“Sheriff Stilinski let you live in his house, eat his food, watch over his son, _and_ you’ve been conscripted into the diet patrol. Face it,” he said with a grin, “you’ve been adopted.”

He left the Mikaelsons staring after him as he went back downstairs.

<> <>

“You know, you guys aren’t subtle at all,” Stiles said when Scott sat back down. “I can tell what you’re doing.”

“You’re going to make this easy on us, then,” Lydia said, grabbing the popcorn from Allison as she passed. “You're going to sit and listen to us and not complain. Got it?”

Stiles made a face, but nodded.

“You are smart in ways that I will never be. You are loyal, and courageous, and strong. This pack is better for having you in it,” Lydia said.

Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles and held on tightly, wetness soaking into the neck of Stiles’s shirt. “You're my brother. Not by blood, but in the ways that matter. I'm glad that you have Kol and the others, but we're not going to give you up, either.”

Stiles understood, but he also knew what Esther was capable of doing if provoked. “If something goes wrong--”

“My plan is to save you. That's the plan I'm going with,” Scott replied, the others nodding their agreement.

“Now that we've had our moment, can we get back to video games now?” Isaac whined. Allison walked by and smacked him on the back of the head.

Stiles hid his smile when Isaac yelped, and burrowed back into Scott's side.

<> <>

He's running through the forest again. This time, there's no Kol to greet him, only the sound of the wind through the trees. It feels like he’s been running for a long time, but he has no idea where he's going or how to get there. Surely, he should have made it out of the preserve by now, but…

Maybe he should stop for a minute. What if he runs right past whatever it is he’s looking for?

He starts walking this time, slow and steady like a heartbeat. He probably should be looking for something, but he lets his feet lead instead, a steady left, right, left, right until he finds it.

He huffs out a tired laugh. He should have expected it, really. Of course the nemeton wanted to see him again.

“If I'm going to sleep on you again, you better give me a blanket or something,” he complained, laying gingerly on top of the stump. He barely had time to feel a burst of amusement in his head before he drifted off, jumbled pictures and words running through his mind.

<> <>

Two things were immediately obvious when Stiles woke up: one, he was very warm; and two, he had definitely not made it back home last night. Instead, he was curled atop the nemeton, surrounded by sleeping wolves. The wolves stirred as he sat up, and watched him curiously as he took stock of the situation.

Stiles took mental inventory, surprisingly unconcerned with his lupine guards. Fingers...toes, arms...legs. No scratches or pain. Actually, he felt really good, if he didn't count the stones digging into his hip pocket. Pulling them out, he saw the amethyst and ruby. The first and last stones he’d been given. Protection and love.

All at once, the wolves rose and silently padded off into forest, leaving behind a bewildered Stiles.

He really should have started walking home at that point--people were undoubtedly looking for him--but he sat back down, turning the stones thoughtfully in his hands. All of the research that he, Finn, and Lydia had done suggested that the stones that he had conjured--amethyst, chlorite, onyx, malachite, ruby--were meant to help him fight Esther, but the details were nonexistent, and Deaton and Morrell were equally unhelpful in finding answers.

And now, the nemeton kept speaking to him in a language he didn't understand. How were a tree and a handful of rocks supposed to help him defeat Esther?

Stiles was still sitting on the nemeton an hour later when Klaus and Kol burst into the clearing, identical looks of concern on their faces.

“Stiles!” The hybrid yelled, speeding toward his little brother.

Kol, meanwhile, stopped a few feet away and gave the nemeton a narrow-eyed look. “I recognize that,” he said, nodding toward the tree. “It was in the first dream we shared. I thought it was just a manifestation of the dream world.” Taking a chance, he moved forward until he and Klaus were sitting on either side of Stiles.

“I slept out here again,” he admitted. “I think that the nemeton wants to help me, but I don't understand what it's trying to say.”

“Why does it have to call you in the middle of the night?” Kol complained.

“The first time I saw it I was dead, so maybe it has to do with your state of consciousness?” He looked down at his hand. “The stones are important, too. I had these two in my pocket when I woke up.”

“The tree has been sending you the stones?” Klaus looked doubtful.

“I don't think so. I think...I've been giving them to myself? Sort of.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“Believe me, I know. I don't know how to use them. I mean, do I make a bunch of necklaces or something? Put them under my pillow? Grind them up? Most people that use these stones have them for a reason.”

“Maybe you can use them to protect the pack?” Kol offered. “Or give them as gifts?”

“If I gave you any of them,” he pointed to Kol, “it would be the chlorite, because you helped me heal and healed yourself, too. And I would give you malachite,” he glanced at Klaus, “because there's no one more transformative than you. Rebekah would get the ruby, of course, because she's all about love and loyalty and passion. I would give Finn the amethyst, because he's always trying to learn and grow, and Elijah would get the onyx because I've never seen anyone with more inner strength than him and then--” Stiles broke off, eyes wide.

“What?”

“I'm supposed to give them to you,” he said, excited over the flash of insight. “I can't defeat her on my own, but it's my power that's kept you from turning completely human right? It's kind of like a circuit. You guys are the power, the stones are the wires, and I'm the switch.”

“What about the pack?”

“I don't think that they're a part of this. This is just about the spell. We have to break the spell together as siblings.”

“That's certainly not going to sit well with Lydia,” Kol pointed out.

Lydia and Scott would both be very unhappy, and Allison and Kira would likely give him sad looks and make him feel guilty. He was not looking forward to giving them the news. “I'll let her help me look through your magical artifact collection; that will help cool her wrath enough that she probably won't kill me.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Got any knives or other sharp pointy things?”

“Planning a stabbing, are we?”

Stiles thought about what the nemeton had showed him the night before. It was confusing, but he was pretty sure that blood would be involved. “Esther used blood to cast the spell in the first place. We’ll need more to undo it.”

Klaus frowned. “But you and Kol weren't a part of the original spell.”

“That's why we’ll succeed where she failed. Let's go home before my dad puts out an APB or something.”

<> <>

“How much blood do you need?” Finn asked, already beginning to roll up his sleeve. Rebekah put her hand on her brother's arm to stop him.

“It's going to take a bit of preparation before we can actually do the spell. Fortunately, it doesn't require a full moon or an equinox or anything like that, but Lydia and I are going to take a look at Kol’s collection and find a knife or dagger that we can use.” Lydia, in fact, had already holed herself up in Stiles's room to research. “Kira, if you could help Lydia and I?” The kitsune nodded and headed up the stairs.

“We'll start getting the ingredients for the spell together,” Scott offered. “Deaton should have most of this stuff. I'll take Allison and Isaac with me so you guys can talk, and be back in a couple of hours. We’ll bring lunch.”

After his friends were gone, Stiles took a minute to look at each of his siblings: Kol, who was lounging comfortably on the couch, Rebekah's feet in his lap; Elijah and Finn, who were sitting on kitchen stools but still managed to look like they were visiting with royalty; and Klaus, who hovered in the corner regardless of his obvious desire to join the group.

He closed the distance between them and hugged Klaus, wrapping his arms firmly around his brother's waist. He could feel Klaus tense up--and for a few seconds, Stiles thought he might pull away--before the hybrid sank into the hug with an almost imperceptible sigh.

With one last squeeze, Stiles pulled away and shot his brother a smirk. "All right, you can go back to your menacing hovering. I don't want you to break out in hives or anything."

“What do you need us to do?” the hybrid asked finally.

“Essentially, we're going to do two things at once: we're going to break Esther’s spell and cast a new one to tie us together to defeat her.”

“How exactly do we do that?”

Stiles couldn't hide his grimace. “Honestly, at this point, I'm just hoping that someone kills her before she kills me. If you could figure out how to do that, I would appreciate it.”

<> <>

It took Stiles, Lydia, Kira, and eventually Kol about ten hours to choose a suitable dagger from Kol’s objects to use for the spell. After a few hours of enforced rest by Elijah, the pack was over and preparing the Stilinski home for the evening’s activities. The Original siblings were impressed with the way the pack carefully followed Stiles and Lydia's instructions, clearly understanding the seriousness of what their friend was about to attempt.

Later, Stiles all but pushed his friends out the door to hugs and threats of retaliation if he got hurt. Then he took a deep breath and moved everyone to sit in a circle on the floor.

“In order for this to work, we're going to do this spell together. Esther stole your blood, so this must be given freely or it won't work. I’m going to give the dagger to Finn first, and he's going to cut Elijah's hand. Elijah will cut Klaus, Klaus will cut Rebekah, Rebekah will cut Kol, Kol will cut me, and I'll cut Finn. As you are adding your blood to the bowl, you say ‘Your blood is my blood, and my blood is your blood. This power is ours’. When that's done, we'll add the herbs that Scott gathered for us one at a time, going around the circle, and then we drink it. After that, I'll gift you your stones.”

The siblings went around the circle, just as their youngest brother had directed. The spell itself did not take long, yet Rebekah was surprised to realize that hours had passed between when the siblings drank the concoction (which tasted just as awful the second time) and when they became aware of their surroundings. All of her brothers except Stiles sat still and quiet in a way that she had never seen before. Their eyes were closed, but their faces were open, and it hurt her heart a little to see it. Stiles was watching them all with a hopefulness she wasn't sure they deserved.

Once everyone came around, Stiles wasted no time moving on to the next task.

“You don't have to do anything for this part, other than accept your gift. I mean, if you don't want them--”

“Of course we want them,” Rebekah assured him.

Stiles took an even deeper breath, as if this was somehow more important than the spell, and grabbed the pouch. He looked solemnly at Finn, who extended his cupped hands to his brother with a reassuring nod. “I give you this gift to protect and shield you, that you might gain inner strength and reach the balance you desire.” Elijah followed Finn’s lead and extended his hands as well. “I give you this gift to protect and heal you, that you will endure the hardships that you face.” When Klaus hesitated, Stiles carefully took the hybrid’s hand and placed the malachite there before offering him an encouraging smile. “I give you this gift to protect and transform you, that you might find your true path and open your heart to others.” Rebekah received a gentle kiss to her hand with her ruby. “I give you this gift to protect and guide you, that you might find the courage and confidence to give and receive love.”

Kol had watched his siblings’ gifts with interest, but now that it was his turn, he was nervous. The other blessings had been surprisingly insightful, and Kol wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Stiles had to say to him. He offered his hand anyway, and Stiles grinned before dropping a green stone into his palm. “I give you this gift to protect and ground you, that you might heal yourself and find peace,” he said seriously.

There were a few moments of silence, the siblings watching Stiles and coming to terms with the emotions their blessings had wrought.

“And to you, these blessings returned,” Finn replied, when he remembered his voice. The other Mikaelsons turned to him, startled, but Stiles smiled brightly before launching toward him with a hug. Finn let himself breathe in the warmth of his youngest brother before passing him off to the next sibling.

“Is everyone back to vampirehood again?” Stiles inquired after all of the hugging was finished. Everyone nodded. “Good, let's get rid of Esther so we can get back to our regularly scheduled levels of crazy around here.”

<> <>

The plan was simple: Stiles would have at least two of his siblings with him at all times. When Esther showed up, one would distract and the other would decapitate.

Naturally, as luck would have it, things turned out very differently.

Only a week after the spell had been broken, Finn disappeared on his way to meet Scott. Scott was taken in the process of calling Kira, who was almost hit by a car as she phoned Elijah with the news. By the time Elijah and Rebekah made it to the scene, the kitsune was also missing. Rebekah called to warn Kol who, along with Klaus, was at home with the two Stilinskis.

“Mother's on her way.”

The explosion was movie-worthy, really, and Stiles would have appreciated the ingenuity of it more if it hadn't happened to him. Klaus and Kol, who were both close to the door, were blown back with enough force to dent the walls that they hit with wet crunches, and Stiles cringed. Blood was dripping down his forehead, and his ears were ringing, and he tried to very slowly move his head to look for his dad--”

She was standing in front of him, watching dispassionately as he pulled himself upright. The body wasn't the same, but Stiles recognized the look in Esther's eyes.

“I wanted to love you, you know,” she said, touching Stiles's face. He had to force himself not to flinch away. “We could have saved this family.”

“I think I’ve done pretty well, actually,” he said. He wanted to say more, but anything else would have just made her angry, and he was trying to avoid that until one of his brothers woke up.

“Yes. You must be quite powerful, to break the spell. I could barely touch my beloved Finn. And to survive the brollachan,” she paused, looking at him fondly, “I truly regret that I can't know you better.” Her hands moved to his neck and started squeezing.

Stiles struggled, but he couldn't reach either of the knives Kol had given him. Just as spots started showing up in the corners of his vision, Stiles heard the cock of a gun. Which was weird, because his siblings didn't use guns. He struggled harder.

“Get away from my son!”

Suddenly, there was a bang, and another, and then Stiles was on the ground, gulping in air. He felt his dad’s arms pulling him against his chest, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. If his dad had shot Esther, she was definitely dead; it was one of the things that made him excellent at his job. “Just breathe for a minute,” his dad said, rocking him gently. “I've got you.” They stayed there for a long time, just breathing. Eventually, he heard his brothers moving, but he felt too exhausted at the moment to open his eyes.

“Is everyone else okay?” he asked finally.

“Elijah and Rebekah went to rescue Finn and the others, and Niklaus, Kol, and Allison are...disposing of the body.”

Stiles was vaguely interested in knowing how they were disposing of the body, but his dad's shiver told him he probably didn't want to know. He find out later, anyway. He stared at his dad, instead.

They both ignored the tears in each other's eyes.

“Thanks for saving me.”

“That's my job, kid.”

<> <> <> <>

Two days after the fight, Stiles, his dad, and the Mikaelsons sat down to talk about the future. Stiles could tell that his siblings were nervous, and hid his smile behind his phone where he was pretending to text Scott.

“You are all welcome to stay as long as you like,” John offered, taking pity on the vampires. “Stiles and I both like the company.” Kol was staying, obviously, but the rest of them had been less than forthcoming with their post-Esther plans.

“We don't want to intrude,” Elijah ventured more cautiously than either Stilinski had expected.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he looked up from his phone. “So buy another house. You’ve been around for a thousand years; you can't tell me you're hurting for money.” At Niklaus’s skeptical look, Stiles countered, “Look. You're family. Even if Dad and I didn't love you--which we do, because evidently, we have a soft spot for claws and fangs--we’d still want you around.”

It didn't take the hybrid as long to accept the hug this time, so Stiles considered it a success. He’d keep working on it.

Even after Elijah and Niklaus went back to New Orleans, he called his brothers every day for a month just to tell him that he loved them. Rebekah stayed in Beacon Hills to finish school, Finn because he didn't care for New Orleans anyway, and Kol because he’d never leave his favorite brother.

If the Mikaelsons were a bit more and a bit less ruthless for knowing Stiles and his dad, well, no one dared to mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations on making it to the end! Hopefully, you enjoyed the ride.
> 
> I want to thank all of you for giving me your time, your brainpower, and your positive thoughts, comments, and/or kudos. It's always appreciated.
> 
> Next week, I'll be posting two more stories in "listening for echoes" and the first story in a series of unrelated fairy-and-folktale inspired fics. 
> 
> The first week of January, I'll start posting a new chaptered fic featuring twin Stiles and Lydia, werewolves, a couple of Mikaelsons, a little bit of romance, and a few other surprises. Hopefully, I'll see you there!
> 
> (The title comes from the poem "There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods" by Lord Byron.)


End file.
